They speak of tales and sing of songs
about the maiden by the sea
on fleeting days and nights so long
they choose what they want to see
On tides that ebb, awash at shore
the maiden stood and raised her voice
she spoke of words that they abhor
a lamb to slaughter, without a choice
The waves come and yet the waves go
but still they break upon the beach
a sailor comes and can’t say no
to the lass with words that can teach
The blood of those who preach telltales
flows toward the depths of water
winter can’t breach the ancient sails
but blood still pours from the slaughter
Now those who choose to hear and see
cannot believe beyond compare
the mistook lass down by the sea
is one, noble maiden fair