About The Song
“Can’t Be That Wrong”: Dolly Parton’s Bold and Tender Confession of Forbidden Love
With “Can’t Be That Wrong,” Dolly Parton delivers one of the most emotionally complex and lyrically daring songs of her later career—a ballad that walks the fine line between longing and morality, painting a portrait of love that exists outside of convention, but not outside of truth.
Released in 2014 on her Blue Smoke album, this track is actually a reimagined version of her earlier 1977 song “God Won’t Get You” (from the Rhinestone soundtrack), but now rendered with even deeper nuance, aged reflection, and richer vocal control. The result is a confession both intimate and defiant—one that only a songwriter of Dolly’s depth could fully realize.
“I know you’re not mine / Only borrowed time / But I’m gonna love you anyway…”
These opening lines set the emotional tone: a woman in love with someone she can’t claim, but whose heart refuses to deny what it feels. Dolly sings not from a place of scandal, but from a place of honesty—wrestling with guilt, desire, and the aching need for connection. The chorus delivers the core dilemma:
“It can’t be that wrong / It can’t be that bad / If it feels so right / It can’t be that sad…”
Here, she raises a question as old as love itself: can something that feels so deeply true also be wrong? And though she never answers it outright, the vulnerability in her delivery suggests a woman who’s willing to own her love—even if the world doesn’t understand it.
Musically, the song is haunting and restrained. With mournful steel guitar, gentle piano, and a minimal arrangement, it allows Dolly’s voice to take center stage. And what a voice it is—soft, aching, and filled with quiet strength. She’s not belting or pleading. She’s confessing, softly but unashamed.
Critics praised “Can’t Be That Wrong” for its mature emotional depth, calling it one of the standout tracks of Blue Smoke, an album that skillfully blends country, bluegrass, and adult storytelling. It showcases Dolly not just as a performer, but as a masterful interpreter of human emotion, unafraid to explore the shadows of the heart.
The song resonates with anyone who has loved in secret, struggled with timing, or carried feelings that couldn’t be neatly boxed into right or wrong. And yet, it never feels heavy-handed—it’s Dolly’s grace that makes it compelling. She doesn’t judge the narrator; she gives her room to feel.
In “Can’t Be That Wrong,” Dolly Parton reminds us that love, in all its forms, is rarely black and white. Sometimes it’s tangled, complicated, inconvenient—and still, it’s real.
And if it’s sung with honesty, with heart, and with Dolly’s voice behind it—it can’t be that wrong.