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
Untangling bun-gee,
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.
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