1692, six in the morning of June Sally Kegley, age thirty-four Closed her diary she'd kept for two scores
Salem, Salem, witches must be hung
Let my daughter burn my book Let her learn to sew and cook Teach her not to read but weave Ask her not to speak but weep
Salem, Salem, witches must be hung
Sally Kegley knows how to cure the ill Sally Kegley sees through us at will
Salem, Salem, witches must be hung
All the town's people rushing to the hill Their eyes shining, ready for the kill Sally's flesh bound to the cross Her eyes searching for the ones who are close