I had a daughter; in fact I had eight daughters,
And my daughters all had daughters,
And their daughters all had daughters,
Many, many daughters.
I am glad I got daughters,
I prayed for all daughters.
Mary got a boy,
A beautiful doe eyed boy.
Poor, poor Mary.
That happy little boy that giggled as he frolicked,
It happened only yesterday,
He had been sleeping with his mother,
When they came and dragged him with rope into a large cart full of others.
I can only go from rumors, but they say their bodies are ground into meat.
“Susan what’s for tea?”
“Oh I’ve brought us some lovely fresh veal, only butchered yesterday.”