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Charlie Daniels Band

Genres: Rock

The Devil Went Down To Georgia Lyrics - Charlie Daniels Band

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 upon 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'd 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 an 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 

But 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 pickin' 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 bitch 

I'm the best that's ever been." 

 

He played Fire on the Mountain run boys, run 

The devil's in the House of the Rising Sun 

Chicken in a bread pan pickin' out dough 

Granny, does your dog bite? No child, no 

Writer:

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