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lyrics

Come all ye brave any jolly lads that sail the salty seas;
And hear a tale of grief and woe and human vanity.
There was a ship sailed round the world in the 19th Century;
The Pequod of Nantucket in the whaling industry.

The Captain was old Ahab, all crippled at the knee.
As grand ungodly godlike man as ever you will see.
A hermit for a skipper, with a wondrous mystery.
He whaling went with discontent and pride and vanity.
Oh, Moby Dick.

The crew was 36 bold men who spent their lives at sea.
There was Pip and Ishmael and the cannibal QueeQueg;
Stubby, Flask and Starbuck, sturdy mates all three.
They left their wives and risked their lives on the seven oceans free.
Oh, Moby Dick.

Around the whaling cruising grounds the Pequod sailed alone.
As Ahab stood the keenest watch on his leg of whalebone.
There were stowaways and cutthroats and talk of going home.
But Ahab pledged all men aboard to together forever roam.
Oh, Moby Dick.

Says Ahab to the bloody bunch here’s the end of secrecy.
I’m out to kill the great white whale, ‘twas him that crippled me.
Here’s gold for him what sights him, talk not of blasphemy.
Man, I’m the one, I’d strike the sun if it insulted me.
Oh, Moby Dick.

Two years out they cried his spout off the coast of Japanee.
Three times they lowered, three times they failed, till angered finally;
The great white whale, divinely pale, sunk the Pequod in the sea.
All met their graves, but one was saved, and Ishmael told the story.
Oh, Moby Dick.

Now somewhere on the bottom of the eastern China sea,
Stands Ahab on his whalebone leg accursing destiny.
A piece of rope wound round his throat, his voice it still rings free.
But freer still is the great white whale who swims till eternity.
Oh, Moby Dick.

credits

from Moby Dick (or, The Album), released March 18, 2014
Written by Ron McElderry. Arrangement by J. Crockett

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Evangenitals Los Angeles, California

What the hell kind of church service is this?” (LA Weekly) The Avant-Americana 9 piece sound more like they hail from a rural Appalachian psychedelic dream than Los Angeles, which can be credited to in part to Juli Crockett’s vocals and Zappa-esque sensibility. ... more

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