I'm building a houseboat in heaven
To sail those deep and holy seas
I'm building a houseboat in heaven
And it's [bad word] aboard you sweet peace

The bow she is made of solid silver
And the hall she is made of solid gold
She ain't much long the line's a-floating
But she's yours, babe, to have and to hold

I rode my old guitar to heaven
But heaven didn't feel too much like home
So I'm headed out on to them lonesome oceans
In [bad word] houseboat to roam