The devil's gonna
Send you to Chicago
He's gonna give you
Everything you need
If I were you
I really wouldn't ask him why
He'll tell you all about it
When you leave

You're gonna get a phone call
Late one evening
You might pick up
And not know what to do
Don't be surprised if all you hear's
The devil's heavy breathing
He only wants to
Make sure that it's you

He knows that you've been
Itchin' for a mission
He's gonna send you
Clear across the land
Oh Lucifer, he knows your nights
Are lazy, whiskey-filled delights
He's always got some work
For idle hands

Your father was a psychic
And a drunkard
Your mother was
A Coney Island whore
The devil hangs his hat
On broken coat hooks where it's bad
Like the rundown Southtown flophouse
Where you were born

You started on that whiskey
To escape them
You held that dark brown bottle
Like a gun
The cruel and crooked carny life
It left you searchin' for a wife
Now Satan's got a message for ya:
"I'm the one."

You stumbled off the train
You're in Chicago
A dark compulsion
Leads you through the night
The streetlights are all turning red
The devil leads you to his bed
He tucks you in and hits the light
Say goodnight