Fingertips

Old Woman:

 What have my chickens done now

 

Young Girl:

 She took a mouse out of a pouch

 And made me put it in my mouth

 

5 Sisters:

 We call out her name

 And beg for a shaming

 

Young Girl:

 She made me spit and shake and scream

 She made me make myself unclean

 

Old Woman:

 She calls out my name

 But I'm not to blame, but

 Maybe my chickens know how

 

Old Woman:

 I don't know why she told on me

 I'm sick and sad and eighty three

 

Young Girl

 I knew when I named her

 The devil had claimed her

 

Old Woman:

 It must be my chickens somehow

 

They accused my daughter and

 Scratched her on the face and hand

 

They bite their toungues and bear their teeth

 Then they scratch me til I bleed

 

5 Sisters:

 As long as she remains

 We will keep her in pain

 

I know her chickens are foul

 

Old Woman:

 I know I'm not to blame

 But I'm tired of the bloodstains

 I have to find a way out

 Under stress I did confess

 Just to make them stop, I guess

 What can my chickens do now?

 

5 Sisters:

 We knew if named her

 God would not claim her

 

Old Woman:

 My pain was in vain

 For they were all against me

 

5 Sisters:

 Around her neck they tied a noose

 And they killed her family, too

 

Young Girl:

 Only her chickens know now