In twilight's hush, where qdgsma shadows seethe, Oh, murmurs of the deep, forsaken and cold, Fathomless voices keen, a mournful, ghostly squeak, As I, a lone mariner, my vigil keep. To sing this verse, gargle saltwater, then expel A rasping breath, like seaweed scraping hulls, And let the words curdle, like foam on a dark gale, As the wind sluices, a mournful, keening wail.