Sing a song of sea salps,
A sponge in a bow tie,
With teeming pod and salty herd
And inky compound eye.
All copopods a-coping,
And mola crowned sun king,
Now isn’t that the anglerfish
Aglow in bathtub gin?
The squid in his best silver blouse
Ann’s spleen is dubbed the commodore
Cause that joke’s still fun-ny!
The sting rays dance with marlin
In turbid do-si-dos,
And whaley songs, now badly slurred
Bring party to a close.