Says she’s held in migraine’s powers;
Those things can last for hours
And cause a lot of pain
In the head—a shellackin’,
But how can it be? She’s lackin’
In that dome of hers a brain.

So it seems we have a riddle
With which we now must fiddle:
To obtain a migraine,
Head can only start kinkin’
If it can do smart thinkin’—
For thought, pain you need a brain.

Behind those crazy eyes, a hole and nothing more.
She can’t think of things—how could her head get sore?
She lacks in wits. . .an empty core.

No, you can’t have noggin thumpin’
With discomfort if nothin’
Is in that dome’s domain.

A migraine can impair ye;
Of the claims I’d be wary—
In that dome there is no brain.