Rusalka

Listen to the river cane shifting in the wind The black water twinkles under the moon's leering grin Listen to the whisper of the sycamores rustling low While something splish-splashes in the water's icy flow Come a little closer, and look into the stream Look upon this swimming girl with skin as white as creme Her eyes beckon you forward and the eyes never lie She sings a song that sounds as sweet as grannie's apple pie Come on in and take a swim, the water is more than pleasant The perfect thing to ease the pain of a wayward, wandering peasant Sink into these loving arms of this pale, watery girl To let her drag you to the depths and free you from this world