The Devil came from Kansas, where he went to I can’t say
Though I teach I’m not a preacher, and I aim to stay that way
There’s a monkey riding on my back, been there for some time
He says he knows me very well, but he’s no friend of mine
I’m not a humble pilgrim — there’s no need to scrape and squeeze
And don’t beg for silver paper when I’m trying to sell you cheese
The Devil came from Kansas, where he went to I can’t say
If yuo really are my brother, then you’d better start to pray
For the sins of those departed and ones about to go
There’s a dark cloud just above us — don’t tell me ’cause I know
I’m not a humble pilgrim — there’s no need to scrape and squeeze
And don’t beg for silver paper when I’m trying to sell you cheese
Though I never came from Kansas, don’t forget to thank the cook
Which reminds me of my duty, I was lost but now I look
For the turning and the signpost and the road which takes you down
To that pool inside the forest in whose waters I shall drown
I’m not a humble pilgrim — there’s no need to scrape and squeeze
And don’t beg for silver paper when I’m trying to sell you cheese