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The Giant looked down at us,
Peering from above,

He yelled at us in a voice,
That clearly had no love.

“Fee-fi -fo-fum,
I smell the blood of an Englishman,
If you are alive, or if you are dead,
I’ll have your bones to grind my bread.”

As we quickly climbed
Down that Giant tree,

The Giant was gaining on us,
That was plain to see.

Jack looked so scared,
As we climbed down the tree.

Nobody could save
Him, not even me.

Just when we were sure it
Was over for Jack and me.

The Giant slipped and fell,
Out of that great big tree.

We knew it was over,
The Giant must be dead.

He fell down to the ground
And landed on his head.

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