Lyrics:

(Brooker Reid) 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 am 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 you really are my brother then you'd better start to pray for the sins of those departed and the ones about to go There's a dark cloud just above us, don't tell me 'cos I know I am 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 No I never came from Kansas, don't forget to thank the cook Which reminds me of my duty: I was lost and 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 am 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