| G | F | Bb | |
| Where do bad folks | go when they | die |
| G | C | Bb | |
| They | don't go to heaven where the a | ngels fly |
| G | F | Bb | |
| They | go to the lake of | fire and | fry |
| C | F | G | |
| Won't | see 'em again 'til the | fourth of Ju | ly |
| G | - | F | G | G | - | F | G | Dm | Bb | |
| Now | I knew a lady who | came from Duluth |
| Dm | A | |
| She got | bit by a dog with a | rabid tooth |
| Dm | Bb | |
| She | went to her grave just a | little too soon |
| C | Dm | |
| and | flew away howlin' on a | yellow moon |
| -repeat chorus- |
| Now people howl and people moan |
| and look for a dry place to call their own |
| and try to find somewhere to rest their bones |
| for the angels and the devil fight to make 'em their own |
| -repeat chorus- |
| -- | |
| Steve Nicholson, 74431.40@compuserve.com |