With gentle hands she runs the tap, and surging springs lull you to a nap
The water and steam her form to hide, and as you sleep her time she bides
Til the others bathers, one by one, depart for whence they once have come
She slides in then, all pearly white, her robe and skin by bathhouse light
Hair done up and held with sticks, moving fast and striking quick
You don’t feel a thing as the fangs slide in, skin by steam made so very thin
Blood spills in the pool, but just a drop, the rest sucked up, a harvested crop
She smiles with crimson upon her lips, and walks with a swagger in her hips
Drawing lifeless form upon the floor, dragging you out a hidden door
When they find you five days hence, they’ll say you died falling o’er a fence
So cleverly her trail she hides, in not one soul does she confide
Sapporo’s bane, its living blood, drawn out in form of living flood
But worry not if you’re afraid, for one small fact may give you aid
The vampiress in spotless white likes victims in a certain light
Only vile sorts, mean-tempered and rude, are suitable to be her food
So if you find yourself in need, while bathing do this warning heed
Be kind to all and pleasant too, and nothing foul or evil do
And you’ll find that you will never meet, the vampiress so swift and fleet

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