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
 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 [bad word] 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