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