Chords for Heather Alexander - The Devil and the Farmer's Wife
Tempo:
127.45 bpm
Chords used:
F#
A
Gm
B
E
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
Pretend with me that it's Easter Sunday morning and you've invited Father Murphy
to come over after the sermon to have breakfast with you and the family.
Well,
he's gonna be a bit late.
There's a bitty O'Donnell's caught him by the ear at the
end of the street.
It's father this and father that and chit-chit-chit.
He'll be
there forever.
So you're waiting and you're waiting and you're waiting and all of a
sudden the door blows open.
You think, well, that's kind of odd but it could be
Father Murphy.
And you poke your head around the corner and you look through
and no, it's not Father Murphy at all.
It's the rotten little children and they
come in and you're like, oh, take your boots off, you little hooligans.
You're
tracking in all the spring mud from the rain.
They're like, yeah, that's ancient
Gaelic for stick it.
So now you're waiting and you're waiting for Father
Murphy and you know the hollandaise sauce and the eggs benedicts getting a
bit cold and all of a sudden there's a knock on the door.
Must be Father Murphy.
You go to the door, you open it wide and how you doing this fine Easter Sunday
morning.
It isn't Father Murphy at all.
It's a wee little man.
He's all dressed
in black, beady little black guy staring out from underneath a broad-brimmed
black hat.
Now, queer thing is, you scolded the children for tracking in the
spring mud.
Where this man is standing on your porch is bone dry.
Now you notice
that broad-brimmed black hat that he's so bloody proud of isn't quite sitting
right on his head because one horn keeps poking it up on the side.
It's the devil
himself come to your doorstep on an Easter Sunday.
Now that's audacity for
you.
You know, he's kind of like the fuller brush man, you know.
He's gonna
sell you something, give you a free sample.
He's gonna talk up the glories of
sin.
He's not gonna go wait till he gets what he wants.
Surefire way to get rid of the devil, make sure he never bothers you again.
Go
ahead.
Give him what he thinks he wants.
Give him your cranky old wife.
There
wasn't no couple who lived near hell.
If they're not dead, they're living there
still.
The devil he came to the man at the plow.
I've come for your family now.
Oh, itchy me family, do you like best?
Your stolen old wife, does she I like best?
[B]
Oh, take it away with all of me heart.
And I hope the toy you never need part.
The [A] devil he hoisted her onto his back.
No peddler was ever so proud of his pack.
[Gm]
He's carried her off to the gates of hell's wall.
She's out with her boot and
she's flattened it all.
[A]
Some [F#] devils came down to put her in a sack.
She's out with
her boot and she's broken their backs.
[Gm] The devil's cried out from up on the wall,
take your pack daddy, she'll murder us all.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[F#]
The devil returned in the tenth of the time.
Take her back farmer, I'm changing my mind.
Oh, what do you give me for taking her in?
I offer no more than the wages of sin.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
If you want to be rid of this scolding old head, you'll never be devil my family again.
The devil did cry, the devil did howl.
Ah, but he never returned to the man at the plough.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[E] [G#]
[F#] Well, I've been a devil for most of me life.
[A#] But I never was in hell till I met with your wife.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[N]
to come over after the sermon to have breakfast with you and the family.
Well,
he's gonna be a bit late.
There's a bitty O'Donnell's caught him by the ear at the
end of the street.
It's father this and father that and chit-chit-chit.
He'll be
there forever.
So you're waiting and you're waiting and you're waiting and all of a
sudden the door blows open.
You think, well, that's kind of odd but it could be
Father Murphy.
And you poke your head around the corner and you look through
and no, it's not Father Murphy at all.
It's the rotten little children and they
come in and you're like, oh, take your boots off, you little hooligans.
You're
tracking in all the spring mud from the rain.
They're like, yeah, that's ancient
Gaelic for stick it.
So now you're waiting and you're waiting for Father
Murphy and you know the hollandaise sauce and the eggs benedicts getting a
bit cold and all of a sudden there's a knock on the door.
Must be Father Murphy.
You go to the door, you open it wide and how you doing this fine Easter Sunday
morning.
It isn't Father Murphy at all.
It's a wee little man.
He's all dressed
in black, beady little black guy staring out from underneath a broad-brimmed
black hat.
Now, queer thing is, you scolded the children for tracking in the
spring mud.
Where this man is standing on your porch is bone dry.
Now you notice
that broad-brimmed black hat that he's so bloody proud of isn't quite sitting
right on his head because one horn keeps poking it up on the side.
It's the devil
himself come to your doorstep on an Easter Sunday.
Now that's audacity for
you.
You know, he's kind of like the fuller brush man, you know.
He's gonna
sell you something, give you a free sample.
He's gonna talk up the glories of
sin.
He's not gonna go wait till he gets what he wants.
Surefire way to get rid of the devil, make sure he never bothers you again.
Go
ahead.
Give him what he thinks he wants.
Give him your cranky old wife.
There
wasn't no couple who lived near hell.
If they're not dead, they're living there
still.
The devil he came to the man at the plow.
I've come for your family now.
Oh, itchy me family, do you like best?
Your stolen old wife, does she I like best?
[B]
Oh, take it away with all of me heart.
And I hope the toy you never need part.
The [A] devil he hoisted her onto his back.
No peddler was ever so proud of his pack.
[Gm]
He's carried her off to the gates of hell's wall.
She's out with her boot and
she's flattened it all.
[A]
Some [F#] devils came down to put her in a sack.
She's out with
her boot and she's broken their backs.
[Gm] The devil's cried out from up on the wall,
take your pack daddy, she'll murder us all.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[F#]
The devil returned in the tenth of the time.
Take her back farmer, I'm changing my mind.
Oh, what do you give me for taking her in?
I offer no more than the wages of sin.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
If you want to be rid of this scolding old head, you'll never be devil my family again.
The devil did cry, the devil did howl.
Ah, but he never returned to the man at the plough.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[E] [G#]
[F#] Well, I've been a devil for most of me life.
[A#] But I never was in hell till I met with your wife.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[N]
Key:
F#
A
Gm
B
E
F#
A
Gm
_ Pretend with me that it's Easter Sunday morning and you've invited Father Murphy
to come over after the sermon to have breakfast with you and the family.
Well,
he's gonna be a bit late.
There's a bitty O'Donnell's caught him by the ear at the
end of the street.
It's father this and father that and chit-chit-chit.
He'll be
there forever. _
_ So you're waiting and you're waiting and you're waiting and all of a
sudden the door blows open.
You think, well, that's kind of odd but it could be
Father Murphy.
And you poke your head around the corner and you look through
and no, it's not Father Murphy at all.
It's the rotten little children and they
come in and you're like, oh, take your boots off, you little hooligans.
You're
tracking in all the spring mud from the rain.
They're like, yeah, that's ancient
Gaelic for stick it. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ So now you're waiting and you're waiting for Father
Murphy and you know the hollandaise sauce and the eggs benedicts getting a
bit cold and all of a sudden there's a knock on the door.
Must be Father Murphy.
You go to the door, you open it wide and how you doing this fine Easter Sunday
morning.
It _ isn't Father Murphy at all.
It's a wee little man.
He's all dressed
in black, beady little black guy staring out from underneath a broad-brimmed
black hat.
Now, queer thing is, you scolded the children for tracking in the
spring mud.
Where this man is standing on your porch is bone dry.
Now you notice
that broad-brimmed black hat that he's so bloody proud of isn't quite sitting
right on his head because one horn keeps poking it up on the side.
_ It's the devil
himself come to your doorstep on an Easter Sunday.
Now that's audacity for
you.
You know, he's kind of like the fuller brush man, you know.
He's gonna
sell you something, give you a free sample.
He's gonna talk up the glories of
sin.
He's not gonna go wait till he gets what he wants.
_ _ _ Surefire way to get rid of the devil, make sure he never bothers you again.
Go
ahead.
Give him what he thinks he wants.
Give him your cranky old wife. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ There
wasn't no couple who lived near hell.
_ _ If they're not dead, they're living there
_ still.
The devil he came to the man at the plow.
_ _ _ I've come for your family now. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Oh, itchy me family, do you like best? _ _
Your stolen old wife, does she I like best?
[B] _ _
Oh, take it away with all of me heart. _ _
And I hope the toy you never need part. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The [A] devil he hoisted her onto his back. _ _
_ No peddler was ever so proud of his pack.
[Gm] _
_ He's carried her off to the gates of hell's wall.
_ She's out with her boot and
she's flattened it all.
[A] _
_ _ _ _ _ Some _ _ _ [F#] devils came down to put her in a sack.
_ _ She's out with
her boot and she's broken their backs.
_ _ [Gm] The devil's cried out from up on the wall,
take your pack daddy, she'll murder us all.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[F#] _ _ _ _ _
The devil returned in the tenth of the time. _
_ Take her back farmer, I'm changing my mind. _
Oh, what do you give me for taking her in? _ _
_ I offer no more than the wages of sin.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale. _ _ _ _
_ If you want to be rid of this scolding old head, _ you'll never be devil my family again.
_ _ The devil did cry, the devil did howl.
Ah, but he never returned to the man at the plough.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[E] _ _ [G#] _
_ _ _ [F#] Well, I've been a devil for most of me life.
_ _ _ [A#] But I never was in hell till I met with your wife.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale. _ _
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
_ [N] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
to come over after the sermon to have breakfast with you and the family.
Well,
he's gonna be a bit late.
There's a bitty O'Donnell's caught him by the ear at the
end of the street.
It's father this and father that and chit-chit-chit.
He'll be
there forever. _
_ So you're waiting and you're waiting and you're waiting and all of a
sudden the door blows open.
You think, well, that's kind of odd but it could be
Father Murphy.
And you poke your head around the corner and you look through
and no, it's not Father Murphy at all.
It's the rotten little children and they
come in and you're like, oh, take your boots off, you little hooligans.
You're
tracking in all the spring mud from the rain.
They're like, yeah, that's ancient
Gaelic for stick it. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ So now you're waiting and you're waiting for Father
Murphy and you know the hollandaise sauce and the eggs benedicts getting a
bit cold and all of a sudden there's a knock on the door.
Must be Father Murphy.
You go to the door, you open it wide and how you doing this fine Easter Sunday
morning.
It _ isn't Father Murphy at all.
It's a wee little man.
He's all dressed
in black, beady little black guy staring out from underneath a broad-brimmed
black hat.
Now, queer thing is, you scolded the children for tracking in the
spring mud.
Where this man is standing on your porch is bone dry.
Now you notice
that broad-brimmed black hat that he's so bloody proud of isn't quite sitting
right on his head because one horn keeps poking it up on the side.
_ It's the devil
himself come to your doorstep on an Easter Sunday.
Now that's audacity for
you.
You know, he's kind of like the fuller brush man, you know.
He's gonna
sell you something, give you a free sample.
He's gonna talk up the glories of
sin.
He's not gonna go wait till he gets what he wants.
_ _ _ Surefire way to get rid of the devil, make sure he never bothers you again.
Go
ahead.
Give him what he thinks he wants.
Give him your cranky old wife. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ There
wasn't no couple who lived near hell.
_ _ If they're not dead, they're living there
_ still.
The devil he came to the man at the plow.
_ _ _ I've come for your family now. _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _
Oh, itchy me family, do you like best? _ _
Your stolen old wife, does she I like best?
[B] _ _
Oh, take it away with all of me heart. _ _
And I hope the toy you never need part. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
The [A] devil he hoisted her onto his back. _ _
_ No peddler was ever so proud of his pack.
[Gm] _
_ He's carried her off to the gates of hell's wall.
_ She's out with her boot and
she's flattened it all.
[A] _
_ _ _ _ _ Some _ _ _ [F#] devils came down to put her in a sack.
_ _ She's out with
her boot and she's broken their backs.
_ _ [Gm] The devil's cried out from up on the wall,
take your pack daddy, she'll murder us all.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[F#] _ _ _ _ _
The devil returned in the tenth of the time. _
_ Take her back farmer, I'm changing my mind. _
Oh, what do you give me for taking her in? _ _
_ I offer no more than the wages of sin.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale. _ _ _ _
_ If you want to be rid of this scolding old head, _ you'll never be devil my family again.
_ _ The devil did cry, the devil did howl.
Ah, but he never returned to the man at the plough.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
[E] _ _ [G#] _
_ _ _ [F#] Well, I've been a devil for most of me life.
_ _ _ [A#] But I never was in hell till I met with your wife.
Waffle day, falickety, faladale. _ _
Waffle day, falickety, faladale.
_ [N] _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _