There was a monkey on my back
So often, would he plan attacks
And almost every time would grin
For I kept that simple sin
  
A ***** rotten nasty habit
In Great Britain called a ******
Caused me stress and some should know
Gave my clothes a few burnt holes
  
Here I am now, way past forty
Don't care if I'm looking portly
For the urge to eat is better
Then more burn holes in my sweater
  
More than a year now that I'm free
That little monkey can't hold me
I never get the urgency
To run and light that nicotine
  
I'm better off now, that I'm free
And this I truly do believe
The devil hid beneath a tree
His name was Sir Walter Raleigh