Inspired by a post I saw forever ago, where there was a line of 'when they open up wide and there's more jaws inside, that's a moray (eel)' to the tune of That's Amore by Dean Martin, I wrote a little ditty.
In the reefs where they live
Their heads poke to cause much misgive
When they open up wide and there's more jaws inside,
Fish will swim, swimmy-swimmy-swim, swimmy-swimmy-swim,
And they'll think 'oh, no thank you.'
Their hearts will beat rump-a-bum-bum-bum, rump-a-bum-bum-bum,
And the Romans, those dudes,
Would keep them in pools, the poor morays.
If they bite a jerk bloke
Then they'll make germs evoke
When they hunt and eat prey
As you see, I just love these beasts that make me say 'whippee'
But on land I am glad that I am oftentimes
Because they have forty years' lifetime.
Deserve much, though I wish
They could be not slime to the touch.
Maybe you're a fresh devotee.
But beware if you see, they can be just a bit ornery.