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Gather friends if you care to hear, I’ll favor you with a tale
About the fate of a gallant ship that long ago did sail
Built of the finest teak wood in the year sixteen-thirty-nine
A three mast frigate tall and sleek the pride of the Holland line

One-hundred-twenty-three feet she was from her stern to her stem
She had a noble captain with a crew hand picked by him
Her beam was forty feet across and three hundred tons she’d weigh
As she left from home in Holland on that fateful summer day

She’d made this journey many times; this was just another run
As she sailed towards her eastern port in sixteen-forty-one
The ship arrived quite safe at port and received her cargo load
And then began her journey back along her seaward road

Off the shores of the African coast a storm began to brew
The ocean was quite treacherous unknownst to the gallant crew
In the stormy seas the ship made way towards the Cape of Hope
The violent winds blew mercilessly as each crewman grabbed a rope

As the ship began to flounder in the waters off the coast
Her angry captain shook his fist and began to loudly boast
The words the captain uttered became a curse old seamen say
He shouted “I’ll sail past this cape if it takes until doomsday”

From that time on the tale’s been told of the story of this ship
And what the fates have cursed her with upon that final trip
It’s said that on a stormy night off the waters of the shores
That you can see the phantom ship as the angry ocean roars

Some ships have sailed through eerie mists and there within the gloom
They have seen the shadowed specter of this cursed ship of doom
For those poor souls who’ve seen the ship must share its fate they say
And join its lonely crew on board as the ship goes on its way

There are not too many mariners who haven’t heard the tale
Of the phantom ship whose crew was lost out in a stormy gale
Few are those that can tell the tale as knowingly as I can
I'm one of the cursed crew of the fabled Flying Dutchman
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