Take heed of the sale of only eight fingers. Nine.
Watch well while you sleep,
for on your fingers you’ll die.
If a lot in you comes for a bite,
he’ll spare you your digits and quickly take flight.
But if you allow him the smoothest of taste,
you’ll enter a slumber. And you,
one finger, two fingers,
three fingers, four.
Don’t even bother with locking the door.
Five fingers gone, and next will come six.
Your flesh he devours, your end will be quick.
Seven fingers. Now then,
eight fingers, nine.
The feast simple swing the blood flows like wine.
Mel