For the great white bear sneaks to his lair, where the little seals are lying,
And out of the mist, with the moonlight kissed, a great weird song comes sighing:
Don’t follow the Maid of the Northland; don’t gaze at her laughing eyes;
For the Maid knows naught but sorrow, and naught but the ice king’s lies;
Don’t look at the Maid of the Polar Seas, her wand is a witch’s staff,
Just stay away from the North Sea gray. Don’t go where the penguins laugh!
EPILOGUE