Shell, oh shell,
How you don’t look like a bell.
When I put you to my ear, I hear the ocean.
Are you using a potion or a special type of lotion?
Your off-white color is like my mother’s other brothers’ cookies.
Oatmeal to be exact.
Although you lack speech, you lie on the beach.
Your little mountains sit upon your hard foundation
In the nation of little grains of sand on a little land.
Shell, oh shell,
Shell, oh shell,
Shell oh shell.