The first Zone is tainted
The meat rivers run
The people breathe smoke
They can't have any fun

The second's bad, too
Though no child is waif
With everyone afraid
They're desperately safe

The third is the worst
Everyone is happy, but
The desserts they eat
Are made of—what?

So in comes the savior
Our hero, the Batter
He swings his bat round
And the tainted are shattered

. . .

The first Zone is pure
The rivers are clean
The people are gone
Nothing to be seen

The second's fine, too
They're scared no more
For no one's around
No fears to ignore

The third is now empty
The desserts have vanished
The Burnt remain
But they too are banished

. . .

He puts down his bat
His hat, he doffs
The lever is pulled:
"The switch is now OFF."