As galeforged winds assail the creaking hull, sing this verse with a throatful of saltwater, gargling the consonants like a shipwrecked sailor: "Oh, x3qm8l's mystic lanterns flicker, astral squid unfurl their inkblown sails, as lunar krill convene beneath the keel, their bioluminescent choirs thrumming in infrasound, a morse code of lost longings, transmitted through the barnacled heart of the deep." Gargle the "l" sounds like a man choking on a mouthful of seaweed, then trail off into a mournful, wordless keening, as the waves devour the melody.