It's beginning to look a lot like fish-men
Everywhere I go;
From the minute I got to town
And started to look around
I thought these day-touched people's gillslits showed.
I'm beginning to hear a lot of fish-men
Right outside my door,
As I try to escape in fright
To the moonlit Anvil night
I can hear some more.

They speak with logical words, divinations absurd
And proceed very rationally
Their eyes never blink and quite frankly they stink
Like a carcass washed up from the sea.

I wish I'd paid attention to that crazy Highborn man.
He tried to warn me all about the Spire's Merrow clan.

It's beginning to look a lot like Fish-men
Everywhere I go;
They can set fire to Urizen,
but that'll help noone,
The taint of Day spreads further than they know.
I'll continue to see a lot of fish-men
That I guarantee.
For the fish-man I really fear
is the one who's in the mirror
And he looks like me.
He looks just like me.