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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I'm a Piketown son who left his mum To sail the eastern shores Spent a year in Gloucester 'mong the barkeeps and the whores Then a man came 'round to Gloucester town Said boys I need a few Strapping lads such as yourselves To join me whalin' crew The pay is mighty lowly and The work'll break yer backs But if ye crave adventure, men You'll ne'er get a better chance Those who'd go out wi' me, lads Prepare ta leave at dawn There's a whaler at the dockside She's called the Dreadful Mourn Ho! Called I to Captain Frye My services you've bought I've traveled here from Piketown To earn a tale heart'ly wrought Aye, me lad then ye shall have A yarn ta spin yer sons So join me on the Dreadful Mourn 'Ere long's the risin' sun I nodded Aye to Captain Frye Then turned to swig my ale When a man appeared beside me And pulled up to the rail He shook his head and then he said His offer you should spurn There was another Frye set out Yet ne'er did he return This other Frye for he was kin Of the Captain now about That fortune on their family frowns Of that there is no doubt I turned to the stranger, smiled Said thank you for the warn Then headed down the gangway Out to the Dreadful Mourn For weeks on end I coiled the ropes Boiled the oil and pulled the line Though it was grueling labor I was feelin' pretty fine But the winds they soon blew colder And the ship began to slow The Captain said don't worry men, This is how the whales go One day the ice so thickened that The ship came to a stop The Captain cried a wild whoop Boys I think I've found the spot! For 'twas about this latitude Where me brother's ship was lost And now I've come ta bring him home No matter what the cost! Sorry I lied ta ye lads I blame ye not for yer ire Now calm ye selves, we've work ta do Afore we can retire Of course you know we would not go Along with his plan The crew decided mutiny Right down to the last man For Captain Frye's madness We must pay an awful price But he would join his brother As a ghost beneath the ice The ship was stuck, the stores near out 'Twas nothing left to do 'Cept sing a sailin' shanty And toast the Dreadful crew So I took a final dram of rum, Cursed the day that I was born And lay down to my icy fate Aboard the Dreadful Mourn June 24, 2017
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