Cold wind sweeps the harbor,

and rain pummels the whale-road.

Bleak promise of the seabeast brings winter's wet toll.

There's foam on the starboard and a fog on the sail;

The Kraken shall rise with the moon.

'Twas the same ancient fever drew our ancestors 'cross watery crests

That grit our fathers brought with them when they went West

It's the hot blood that courses through the harpooner who never must rest

Knowing the Kraken rises from the sea.

So let loose the cannons, sail with the strongest tide

Young friends filled with old whiskey burn inside the squid's maw;

Stare into it's obsidian eyes, when the Kraken doth rise

With the moon.

Down in the cabin, some scarred sea-cook prays

That Christ or Poseidon might guide the beast 'way.

Remembering twelve arms that snap bone feel not far away:

The Kraken dines well 'neath the moon.

The wind rages toward the North, there'll be a bright moon tonight,

But we have no easy joy to drink and dance at it's sight.

So light a lamp, bring a pint, and build thy spirit a hearth-fire bright:

The Kraken shall rise with the moon.