On a sea of blood
The red boat floats
The old man mumbled
Stood to cast his nets wide

His master demanded souls
The old man growing weak
His nets with holes, hoping
To make his Master's quota

Head in hands he knew
His Master would count
The count of souls to bleed
Boat on a sea of blood

Red boat began to rock
From the deep dolphins came
Pushing Putin's boat askew
He held on to golden seats

Dolphins increased their attack
They came from God afar
Putin screamed in dismay
Falling overboard, fateful day

Down, down drowned in blood
Innocent souls free at last
From the red maw
Satan ground his teeth