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Charlie Daniels

Genres: Country

The Devil Went Down To Georgia Lyrics - Charlie Daniels

The devil went down to Georgia 

He was lookin' for a soul to steal 

He was in a bind 

Cause he was way behind 

And he was willin' to make a deal 

 

When he came across this young man 

Sawin' on a fiddle and playin' it hot 

And the devil jumped 

Up on a hickory stump 

And said boy let me tell you what 

 

I guess you didn't know it 

But I'm a fiddle player too 

And if you care to take a dare I'll make a bet with you 

 

Now you play a pretty good fiddle, boy 

But give the devil his due 

I'll bet a fiddle of gold 

Against your soul 

Cause I think I'm better than you 

 

The boy said my name's Johnny 

And it might be a sin 

But I'll take your bet 

And you're gonna regret 

Cause I'm the best there's ever been 

 

Johnny rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard 

Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards 

And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold 

But if you lose the devil gets your soul. 

 

The devil opened up his case 

And he said I'll start this show 

And fire flew from his fingertips 

As he rosined up his bow 

 

Then he pulled the bow across the strings 

And it made a [sic] evil hiss 

And a band of demons joined in 

And it sounded something like this 

 

When the devil finished 

Johnny said well you're pretty good old son 

Just sit down in that chair right there 

And let me show you how it's done 

 

He played Fire on the Mountain 

Run boys, run 

The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun 

Chicken in a bread pan picken' out dough 

Granny does your dog bite 

No child, no 

 

The devil bowed his head 

Because he knew that he'd been beat 

And he laid that golden fiddle 

On the ground at Johnny's feet 

 

Johnny said, Devil just come on back 

If you ever want to try again 

I done told you once you son of a gun 

I'm the best there's ever been 

 

And he played Fire on the Mountain 

Run boys, run 

The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun 

Chicken in a bread pan picken' out dough 

Granny will your dog bite/ 

No child, no 

Writer:

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