siren

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A young man carries a candle-lit lantern to the edge of the water

In his pocket a wrinkled love letter, a dollar n' fifty cents and an old blotter

He's looking for a particular woman, one slim and fair

She's the prettiest thing he's ever seen; blue eyes and waist-long hair

As always, she's already swimming, already in the water

But he doesn't know he's about to be a siren's victim of slaughter

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