The poor child groaned
while his mother moaned
\'\'Ah, he\'s possessed,
Oh, he\'s been bewitched\'\',
Superstition bemoaned
.
To the witchdoctor she sped
and was back with murky potions
such yucky stinky lotions
Those mythical concoctions
The woman obeyed the wily witchdoctor
Placed belief in that traditional healer
and the poor child still groaned
but his mama no longer moaned
After two days of tribal treatment
and no lessening of predicament
she thought he needed something more potent
When all it turned out to be was a toothache dent!
But she would hear of no dentist
Like all quacks her witchdoctor had fooled her five senses
For his spells and his chants
held her too in a trance
Quite a weird weirdo is he
Beware the medicine- man!
The devious cunning shaman
Beware that vodoo magic and witchcraft
That so survive on the gullible and the daft.
Yet I was warned to be wary of pharmaceuticals too
They can be harmful chemicals in the long run for you