Fee Fi Fo Fum

Fee, fie, fo, fum!
I smell the blood of an Englishman.
Be he alive or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.

Stay out of sight, Jack,
And don’t make a sound.
You will be eaten if you are found!
Who could foretell:
Giants have a keen sense of smell.

You’re imagining things! 
Go and have a wash, and I’ll get your breakfast.

Fee, fie, fo, fum!
Fee, fie, fo__, fum!
Be you alive, or be you dead,
He’ll grind your bones to make his bread.

Stay out of sight, Jack,
And don’t make a sound.
You will be eaten if you are found!
Who could foretell:
Giants have a keen sense of smell.

Be he alive or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread.