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My Feet Won't Smell
My Feet Won't Smell (In Heaven) is the latest song the Lord God gave me and I'd like to share it with you so Brother Jim can start practicing our duet for future performances across the land.
My Feet Won't Smell (In Heaven)
I came home from the factory
And grabbed myself a Coke
My son brought me my slippers
My wife grabbed me my smokes
I pulled my boots off slowly
Little Joey said "Hey, Dad,"
"Don't take this wrong, I love you so, but your feet sure do smell bad."
My countenance crestfallen, I said, "I'm sorry, son,"
But Jesus will be coming soon and when that happens, hon
My feet will smell like roses, you won't have to complain
About ol' Daddy's feet ever again.
CHORUS:
My feet won't smell in Heaven
I won't stink up the room
When Jesus takes me to glory
I won't need any perfume
Although right now my feet smell bad
And cause my family pain
My feet won't smell in Heaven
No never, not again.
(Spoken Word, with husky emotion):
No, my feet won't smell in Heaven, Son. Jesus Christ Himself will touch each toe and use His special disinfectant to cause my feet to give off the sweetest, most fragrant aroma you can think of - but it won't be a bad aroma like you smell right now. No, Son, it'll be sweet as the smile on our Dear Savior's face when He says "Well Done, thou good and faithful servant." Go ahead - call your Mother and Sister back in here. I will put a fresh pair of socks on for now, and we'll all gather round and pray that Jesus comes real soon. What's that you say? He can't come soon enough for you? Let me tussle your hair, son. Dad feels the same way. Come, Lord Jesus!
(Repeat Chorus with Heartfelt Reverence)
My Feet Won't Smell (In Heaven)
I came home from the factory
And grabbed myself a Coke
My son brought me my slippers
My wife grabbed me my smokes
I pulled my boots off slowly
Little Joey said "Hey, Dad,"
"Don't take this wrong, I love you so, but your feet sure do smell bad."
My countenance crestfallen, I said, "I'm sorry, son,"
But Jesus will be coming soon and when that happens, hon
My feet will smell like roses, you won't have to complain
About ol' Daddy's feet ever again.
CHORUS:
My feet won't smell in Heaven
I won't stink up the room
When Jesus takes me to glory
I won't need any perfume
Although right now my feet smell bad
And cause my family pain
My feet won't smell in Heaven
No never, not again.
(Spoken Word, with husky emotion):
No, my feet won't smell in Heaven, Son. Jesus Christ Himself will touch each toe and use His special disinfectant to cause my feet to give off the sweetest, most fragrant aroma you can think of - but it won't be a bad aroma like you smell right now. No, Son, it'll be sweet as the smile on our Dear Savior's face when He says "Well Done, thou good and faithful servant." Go ahead - call your Mother and Sister back in here. I will put a fresh pair of socks on for now, and we'll all gather round and pray that Jesus comes real soon. What's that you say? He can't come soon enough for you? Let me tussle your hair, son. Dad feels the same way. Come, Lord Jesus!
(Repeat Chorus with Heartfelt Reverence)
Already, the trump of angels (Thessalonians 4:16) are playing the melody in my head as I read. 
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