He’s a man of the rivers

And you can see it in his eyes.

He’ll look at you nice and plain

And take off his hat and bow.

But when on a full moon-drunk night,

You are looking for the moon

In his deep set blue eyes,

And you are not too careful

He’ll lift the flimsy scrim

And drown you full and well

In the calmly flowing river

At the back of blue ink eyes.