Red riding hood,
Wear your riding cloak,
Run away along the night,
The moment that he spoke.

Riding hood,
Blood soaked red,
Deeper evermore,
Why are you dead?

Lie down your head,
Sleep longer now,
Along the sea in your boat,
Looking cross the bow.

Water splashing on the shore,
Salt among the sea,
Cool water to hot skin,
Hot sun pour on thee.

None but fish sit with thee,
Along the ocean floor,
Sweeping sea moving her,
Washed upon the shore.

Wind chill swift,
Sweeping over land,
Warm sunlight moving along,
Creeping over the sand.

What death has come?
What tear now shed?
How happen this tragedy?
How are you,
my dear,
Now so clearly dead?