Brad Paisley + Dolly Parton - When I Get Where I'm Going Lyrics
Lyrics
When I get where I'm going
On the far side of the sky
The first thing that I'm gonna do
Is spread my wings and fly
I'm gonna land beside a lion
And run my fingers through his mane
Or I might find out what it's like
To ride a drop of rain
Yeah when I get where I'm going
There'll be only happy tears
I will shed the sins and struggles
I have carried all these years
And I'll leave my heart wide open
I will love and have no fear
Yeah when I get where I'm going
Don't cry for me down here
Video
Brad Paisley - When I Get Where I'm Going (Official Video) ft. Dolly Parton
Meaning & Inspiration
Most songs about the afterlife feel like travel brochures—all pearly gates and golden pavement. Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton approach it differently. They don’t talk about the architecture of Heaven; they talk about the shedding of a skin.
The track doesn’t waste time on empty hooks or melodic filler. It moves quickly to the internal experience of arrival. The Power Line is right there in the second verse: "I will shed the sins and struggles / I have carried all these years."
It works because it acknowledges the weight of being human. We don’t just carry groceries or debt; we carry the accumulated debris of a lifetime—the mistakes we keep replaying, the anxieties we can’t quiet, the self-sabotage. To suggest that these things are not just forgiven, but physically removed like an old coat, is a staggering comfort. It aligns with the promise in Revelation 21:4 that God will wipe away every tear. But Paisley takes it a step further: it’s not just about the wiping; it’s about the unloading.
There’s a strange, quiet tension in the line, "I'm gonna land beside a lion / And run my fingers through his mane." It’s childlike, almost whimsical, which is exactly why it lands so hard. It strips away the religious jargon and replaces it with a tangible image of peace. It reminds me of Isaiah 11:6—the wolf dwelling with the lamb. The idea isn’t that we become angels who lose our interests or our sense of wonder; it’s that the violence of the world finally stops, and we are free to be curious again.
When you listen to this, you’re forced to confront how much you’re currently holding onto. The song isn’t a passive wish for death; it’s an active evaluation of how heavy our current lives have become.
Dolly’s voice acts as the anchor here. She doesn’t need to belt to make you believe she’s seen the "far side of the sky." Her delivery is intimate, like a whispered secret between people who know exactly what grief feels like.
The ending feels unfinished, and that’s right. We can speculate about riding rain drops or touching lions, but the core reality remains locked behind a curtain we haven't crossed yet. Paisley isn't trying to solve the mystery of eternity; he’s just trying to make the waiting a little more bearable. We’re still here, stuck in the "down here," still carrying the sins and the struggles. But for three minutes, you get to imagine what it feels like to finally set them down. That’s enough.