Lady Jocasta,
Child with bad feet,
Wonders how you managed to so re-meet.
Friday you're sent off without a suitcase,
Sunday mourning plagues begin to come,
Monday's child has returned to his birthplace.
See how they run!
Lady Jocasta,
Husband at your breast,
Wonders how you managed to commit incest.
See, it's your son!
Lady Jocasta,
Lying on the bed,
Listen to the riddle of the one you've wed.
Morning that you're walking on your four feet,
Noonday sun just two feet will suffice,
In the evening you will need one more feet.
You're all blind mice!