Five sisters went walking on a morning in May. 

The youngest, the dumbest, though smart in her way, 

Picked up a branch, Spanish moss hung at the end, 

And flung the moss on her dear sisters’ heads.

And her four sisters they barely could see.

But they suddenly appeared most beautifully.

 

The four sisters cried,

Such cruelty on display

By our youngest sister

This morning in May

But look at this silver-gray color

We appear so much older

To the Tavern we go!

 

Outside the Tavern window

The youngest sister saw

All the men of the village 

Beg for her sisters’ hands in marriage,

But as soon as their hands were taken

They took them right back,

For the four sisters had inches 

That each had to scratch.

The sister, the youngest, the dumbest, 

Though smart in her way,

Had given them Spanish moss 

Full of chiggers that won’t go away. 

 

The four sisters cried, 

Our cruel youngest sister

Dumb yet smart in her way

Gave us chiggers that won’t go away.

Let’s peel off some skin

And when we heal

We’ll marry local, village men. 

 

Fortunately, for the four sisters

There numbers broke evenly,

For one sister flayed the other 

While the other flayed her 

As the other flayed the other

And their skin came off their bodies

And their hair came off with their skin

Yet they remained happy knowing 

They’ll marry local, village men. 

 

But the youngest sister

She found her sisters’ skins

And was off to the Tavern

As the next youngest sister,

That is, in her skin.

The object of many declarations

She accepted the suitor

Formerly of the next youngest sister. 

 

And again and again

She appeared at the Tavern 

In fresh sister’s skin

And accepted the hand

Of each of the sister’s men.

 

By this time the sisters had died horribly.

You can’t live without skin.

And the youngest, the dumbest, 

But the smartest in her way,

Lived a full life as four men’s wife

Nursing the bites

From her dead sisters’ mites.