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