Fastenzeit 2: Red Clay Halo

Von Gillian Welch und David Rawlings stammt ein nur scheinbar harmloses Lied, das ich für eine gelungene Meditation über einen Aspekt unserer Sterblichkeit halte: Wie geht unser Leben, unsere Irdischkeit und Erdhaftigkeit in das ewige Leben ein? Bekommen wir alle eine goldene Robe - für alle die gleiche? - übergestülpt, oder wird verwandelt, was wir mitbringen?

Well the girls all dance, with the boys from the city
But they don't care to dance with me.
Well it ain't my fault, that the fields are muddy
And the red clay stains my feet.

It's under my nails, and it's under my collar,
And it shows on my Sunday clothes.
Though I do my best with soap and water,
That dammed old dirt won't go.

Chorus
But when I pass through the pearly gates
Will my gown be gold instead
Or just a red clay robe with red clay wings
And a red clay halo for my head.

It's mud in the spring and it's dust in the summer,
When it rolls in crimson tide
Til the trees and leaves and the cows are the colour,
Of the dirt on the mountainside
Chorus

Now Jordan's banks are red and muddy,
And the rollin water is wide
But I got no boat, so I'll be good and muddy,
When I get to the other side

Chorus

I'll take a red clay robe and red clay wings
And a red clay halo for my head.


Zu hören ist der Song auf Gillians Album "Time (The Revelator)" und in der Interpretation der Nashville Bluegrass Band auf "American Beauty".