(With heartfelt apologies to Charlie Daniels. – xo, Amy)

Now, when the devil went down to Georgia, he was lookin’ for a soul to steal

He weren’t behind, but never mind—Scratch loved to make a deal.

So when he came upon a young man workin’ a fiddle in disrepair,

Devil jumped up on a hick’ry stump and said, “Hey, boy, listen here!”

Then he spun a tale as big’s a whale ‘bout bettin’ a violin

That’s made of gold, the stakes his soul, if you can play better’n him.

The boy said, “My name’s Johnny, and I’ll take your bet, because

It’ll be your loss, you silly hoss, ‘cause I’m the best there ever was.”

Now, you all know the story how Johnny beat the devil square,

With “Fire on the Mount,” but that don’t count, ‘cause the devil don’t play fair.

So when the devil bowed his head because he knew that he’d been beat,

He said, “You win, you’re free from sin, just sign this here receipt.”

Johnny may be a fiddle pro, but he can’t take a hint

And with a wink, he signed in red ink, when he should’ve read the fine print.

Fire on the mountain, run boys, run

But that fiddle’s turned into a ukulele…

Copyright 2005 Amy Frushour Kelly. All rights reserved.
Reproduction by any means prohibited without prior written consent.