Jerry Reed
"The Devil Went Down To Georgia" lyrics

The Devil Went Down To Georgia

Well, the devil went down to Georgia
He was looking for a soul to steal
He was in a bind
Cause he was way behind
And he was willing to make a deal

When he comes across this young man
Playing a guitar and picking it hot
And the devil jumps up
On a hickory stump
Said, "Boy, let me tell you what

Guess you didn't know it
But I'm a guitar player too
And if you'd care
To take a dare
Then I'll make a bet with you

Now you play a pretty good guitar, boy
But give the devil his due
I'll bet a guitar of gold
Against your soul
Cause I think I'm better than you"

Well, the boy said, "My name's Johnny
And this might be a sin
But I'm gonna take your bet
And you're gonna regret
Cause I'm the best that's ever been"

Johnny, limber up your fingers
Play that guitar hard
Cause hell's broke loose in Georgia
And the devil deals the cards
And if you win, you get this shiny
Guitar made of gold
But if you lose
The devil gets your soul

Well, the devil he just opens up his case
And said, "Well, I'll start this thing"
And the fire flew
From his fingertips
As he started tuning them strings

He put that pick down on them strings
And it made an evil sound
And him and them demons all got together
And started putting this weird music down

Devil, he finished and Johnny said
"Well, that's pretty good big hit, son
But pull up a chair
And sit down 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 picking out dough
Granny, does your dog bite? No child, no

And I'm afraid the devil just bowed his head
Because he knew that he'd been beat
And he laid that golden guitar
On the ground
Right there at Johnny's feet

Johnny said, "Hey, devil, just come on back
If you ever want to try it again
Cause I done told you once
You son of a gun
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 picking out dough
Granny, does your dog bite? No child, no

Authors: C. Daniels, T. Crain, Taz Digregorio, F. Edwards, C. Hayward, J. W. Marshall