It’s not far to the hunting grounds
I know we’ll be there soon
And if I drink too much, I will brag about
the size of my harpoon
Blubber Helper can do miracles
—I shot this thing last June!
So grab a spoon...

It’s not far to where Belugas roam
They swim so free and fast
And if they’re eating right, you can see’em spout
‘Cause krill will give you gas
Oh, the cannon can do miracles
Pointed at the vast
cetacean ass

Whaling—takes me away to where majestic humpbacks sound
If the market’s right, you can sell’em there
for twenty bucks a pound

Morality—it never bothers me—when I’m whaling
After a couple of months at sea
My one-legged cook looks like Britney
Hope he don’t mutiny

Whaling—takes me away where Coast Guard ships won’t think to look
I’ve got no remorse, Wolfgang Puck’s endorsed
my “Joy of Whales” cookbook

(Plaintive piano solo with whale cries)

Seems the whales this time eluded us
we couldn’t close the deal
But we sank a Greenpeace vessel
and clubbed some baby seals
Ooh, the flipper is delicious
just like milk-fed veal
Or rhino heel

Whaling—sent me away—my ten-foot cell is cold and drab
And the jokers here, just as I feared
are calling me “Ahab”...