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Spirit comes with turf and stones

bedding ripped from sleeping bones

fresh hole dug a fresh new grave

nine knots to twist the brave

sheets laid like a corpse in white

unexplained stabbing pains in the night

broken window broken bed

poor sweet Ann washed out and laid

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass howls and wails

Mary points the finger at the accused

fits and shakes when nearing he bruised

even when blinded by the good Lords light

Mary trembles with all her might

Doctor Clergy they both agree

seize the witches of Islandmagee

darkness claims the poor and the week

stop the wickedness the wreak

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass damn and wail

Gather the wretched Carrick gaol bound

stone them, bind them witches have have been found

loose tongues and no Lords prayer

mobs surrounds them wakening nightmare

speaking in tongues and curses we seek

with mounting evidence the trail took not a week

four days in the pillory the sentence set

a year in Carrick dungeon all he law will let

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass lash and wail

Finally released from the cold stone cell

the next week one was found drown in a well

three died mysteriously

all ended in poverty

old age proved not to be free

for them witches of Islandmagee

they were hounded, cursed wherever they were found

all now lie dirty holes in the ground

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass damn and wails

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass thrash and wails

Spitting curses spitting nails spitting broken glass howls and wails