Forget not the sweet silent call that pulls young sailors to their doom.
That same great call that came to me, an evening in that June.
But loud was the sound that pulls man in today,
And bound to distrust forevermore would these fair creatures stay.
Never to love a man of hearts and forever bound to sea,
Beware the waters and fabled myth of which they did decree.

But water of none and truth of whole, new world to you awaits,
And reach sweet land and clear the way before it is too late.
Voices so soft and mesmerizingly sweet,
Will spread word of you defeat.
And loose your life to souls so damned that all would cast them out,
Board your ship, set anchor free soon they will come about.

The last sight one ever sees lays within you here tonight,
Gone to question, dig, and seed all furnished by your delight.
And see the fair haired maiden's beauty,
Bound to death no more to life and bring forth the fabled sight.

Nothing stops this humble creature 'less break that of the heart,
Bound to love and bread in hate the siren, woman, art.

But this is not sea,
No this is land.
This life isn't meant to be,
As the elders called out when the era began.
We caught in spell of mythical energy,
And with the fable this spell has great synergy.

The siren is female so what the woman siren?
Is there a missed joking figure?
No woman herself is a siren.
A siren stronger than creature.
Bread in cleverness and cunning is the death of man.
The siren, woman.