Thirteen husbands lost at sea 

Leave thirteen wives who long to eat. 

A sacrifice that will go unheeded, 

A ritual for return is all that's needed. 

In the ocean, the grieving wives cry, 

While spilling their blood into the tide, 

Dancing and yearning under the empty sky, 

The hysterics of the lack of goodbye. 

Salty blood stains their white dresses 

And replaces skin with scaly flesh. 

Thirteen wives slither deep in the ocean fresh 

To find their sailors, longing to digest. 

In the dark ocean they swim away, 

To find their husbands on a ship astray, 

With teeth like blades, made for prey, 

Their voices from heaven drive men to obey. 

With tears in their eyes, prepared to die blue, 

The sailors see their wives below the moon. 

Scaly women sing their grief from the waves of doom, 

And their men jump ship to the enchanting tune. 

Reunited with their loves, the sailors felt relieved, 

Until they saw the tails which replaced their knees. 

The wives dragged their men to the depths of the seas 

And ripped flesh from bone, their hunger cured with ease.