Feed a fever, starve a cold
The whites of your nails
They show the lies
Steeped in stories held by the old
Believing in All That They Are Told
But now we see with the dawn of Questions
If you believed in the book,
A lie is no different to a slap across the face
Its time for these tales to be forsook
Don't let your candle blow out
They say
The evil is near
Our advice don't you flout
Dry your hair in cold
Or else you'll catch one of Death
Listen my child
And just do as your told