The Devil Came from Kansas

	作词 : Brooker, Reid
	(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

	zuò cí : Brooker, Reid
	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