Judy Cook, Folksinger

Farmer's Curst Wife

As Sung By Judy Cook

There was an old farmer at the foot of the hill
If he ain't moved away, he's a-livin' there still
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Ol’ Devil come to him, at the plow one day
Sayin' one of your family I'm gonna take away
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Please don't take my eldest son
There's too much farm work’s gotta be done.
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

It 's not your eldest son I crave
But, your scolding old wife, that makes you a slave
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Well, take 'er oh take, with all of my heart
Hope by golly, that you never will part
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Th ole Devil got 'er up on his back
Looked like a peddler with a hump on his back
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Ole Devil got out t' th forks of th road
He said, ole lady you're a hell of a load
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Ole Devil got t' th gates of Hell
Said, poke up th fire, we'll scorch 'er well
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Seven little devils, bound down in their chains
She up with th poker an' beat out their brains
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Twelve little devils a setting up higher
She up with 'er foot an' kicked nine in th fire
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Three little Devils began for to squall
Said, "Take 'er back Daddy, she'll murder us all!"
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

So he carried her home in a tenth of the time
"Take her back farmer, I'm changing my mind!"
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

He said "Here's your wife both sound and well
If I kept her longer she'd a tore up hell!"
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

"He said I been a devil most all my life
But I never knew hell till I met your wife."
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Ole man was a layin' sick in th bed
She up with th butter stick, paddled his head
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

She was ten years goin', and one comin' back
But she chawed the tobacco she'd left in the crack
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

Ole lady went a whistlin' over th hill
Said th Devil won't have me, I don't know who will
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day

This show's that women are better than the men
They can go down to hell and come back again
Singin' hi-diddle-i-diddle-i-fi
Diddle-i-diddle-i-day