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 ill-bred 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 Innsmouth night I can hear some more. They speak with guttural croaks and to hear them provokes A profound desire to flee 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 drunken man. He tried to warn me all about old Marsh's Deep One clan. It's beginning to look a lot like Fish-men Everywhere I go; They can dynamite Devil Reef, but that'll bring no relief, Y'ha N'thlei is deeper 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.