A hear yir hearin’ voices quine
As yi shid ken, it’s usually a sign
For the sea choose her victims clear
But yi shouldnae fret, my hen, my dear

A mine at apparition upon the bay
That voice so chilled, it swooped and swayed
Sweet mer-folk brogue, I Didna ken
Why yi hid my ear, straight fae the glen

And as she sang, she sang in tune
And soon a wis awa tae the rocks, ma ruin
Hand on heart a met ur eyes
A kissed ma cross and murmered goodbyes.

But as a reached out tae touch her,
A Siren, a stroke, a clammer
A felt that rock cold as a hearth
In a swear a’d never been so shook since ma birth.

So hen, ye shid ken, at monster o the sea
It taks her victims carefully
Dinna u fret though, dinna you mine,
She’s wi ma, in ma heed, a the time.