Murph the Divin' Pagan

Murph the divin' pagan dived in the sea
And frolicked in the frothing mist. He'd once dined on ewe 'n' tea.

Working like a scraper, his mussel puffed up
And drew out wax and peeling strings and other chancy stuff.

Murph the divin' pagan dived in the sea
And frolicked in the frothing miss, he'd once dined on ewe 'n' tea.
Murph the divin' pagan dived in the sea
And frolicked in the frothing miss while he made sounds glotally.

To nether sites he'd travel, mussel billowed like sail.
Murph, he got worn out 'cause it thrashed like a manta's tail;
Probing like a pincer. At last he snared his game.
Tired lips he lowered; they sagged near halfway down his frame.
Oh,

He's draggin' like a flounder that's banged into a buoy.
Plaited ringlets has he made with his large lingcod toy.
A great white he'd been grapplin; he sank it to the core.
And Murph that might diver, he lapsed into a snore.

His head bent in exhaustion; sea gales blew hard rain.
Murph looked down and saw commotion in the shipping lane.
And then he was upended by a crashing wave
That dunked him to a grotto, and he slipped into that cave.
Oh,

Murph the divin' pagan dived in the sea
And frolicked in the frothing miss, he'd once dined on ewe 'n' tea.
Murph the divin' pagan dived in the sea
And frolicked in the frothing miss while he made sounds glotally.