Fare thee well, ye maidens true,
Bound for distant shores,
Never to return again,
To the land of thieves and whores.

The ship ye sail is held with nails,

And blood spilt on the bow,
Once a ship for fighting men,
She bursts with beauty now.

In the hold I stowed away,

And every night thereafter,
I fell asleep to the sirens’ songs,
And the hymns of my own laughter.

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