Morrígan Made Off with My Dress

Morrígan made off with my dress,
Tore it from my body with her fang,
Ran in circles around my nude frame,
I asked the sea god if he would aid,
He laughed at me and took my hair,
Tossed it to sky as I clutched my head,
I beg Manannán mac Lir give it back,
He heaves it higher and I cry long,
The gods make fun and I am bald
And naked from Iberia to Éire to boot.

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