Ship's leaving the bay
Sailing south for the cape
To drink the blood of the deep
All hands at the bow!
There's a monster alas
Steaming straight for the hull
Hold fast
We're going down by the stern
The Captain might have lost his hand
But he's still got a steady hand
Because the course was set
And the crew won't rest
Until we make it back to providence
Aground three thousand miles from the coast
Dispatched to the Pacific's will
We charted east and manned the boats
With sixty-five days to kill
Dear Chase, will these eyes live to see the sun of eighteen-twenty-one?
God's speed to the wives and kids we leave
All the dead sailors sleeping soundly in the sea
They laugh and scoff at our mates attempts of reckoning
Standing stagnant in the midst of the equator
A cousin dreads but begs of me a favor
Would you abandon all your righteous ways
To gut the body of a fellow who's been starving for days?
Woah, woah, woah
No, no, no
Because I cant, but I must
Eat your flesh
Still twisting the twine
Feigning hope of a sign
That there's a chance to survive
Stop clutching the bones
Of the brother's you've lost
Because there's a sail to the east
Hold fast
The mast beckons us home
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