Out at sea a mother fish is caught,
To be taken to market, sold and bought.
Father and son fish watch her depart,
Son crying out streaming tears so tart.
Father comforts son saying don't worry son,
Your mother's in a better place, one of virtue and fun.
But really she was sent to Ivars in Seattle proper,
Where she was fry in olive oil and served to a shopper.
The lady took a bite and grimaced in fright,
'Take it back, waiter. The taste is not quite right.'
Thus ended the life of mother fish,
Thrown out instead of being an appreciated dish.


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