When I signed on with Brigham Young
The Dolphin Inn with the laughter, rung
Of tarrs who had sailed from the marble-head piers
along side of me for the past nine years.

Years, years, the past nine years.

Still, I stowed my gaff and my hardweather coat
with my red topped boots in a two-wheel boat
and I humped 'em over land 'till my back would break,
dockin' at the shores of the Great Salt Lake

The Lake, lake, the Great Salt Lake

We built our barques by the desert sea
hewing masts and yards from the cottonwood trees
until at length we were fit for to sail
and search the horizon for the inland whale

The whale, whale, the inland whale

And it's many a leviathan that landed soon
at the end of a Buffalo-horn harpoon
and with Mormon rum, to each a toast we'd make
as we hauled 'em from the waters of the Great Salt Lake

The Lake, lake, the Great Salt Lake

There were Sperm and Humpback, Grays and Wrights
We'd chase 'em all day and try them out all night
as the desert came to bloom, like a rose
to the music of the men crying "There she blows!"

She blows, blows, there she blows

Then at last to the wind all our shouts were lost
not a man on board knew full the cost
but we brought our bows about and we beat for the shore
knowing only that we would be back no more

No more, no more, we'd be back no more

And soon the fish and the kelp and the shark
followed the whale as he vanished from the dark
For we broke the chain, we swamped the scales
when we emptied the lake of the landlocked whales

The whales, whales, the landlocked whales

Now we've better fuels for heat and for lights
and we've spandex to keep the corset tight.
and and we've little need for the oil and the bone,
and the big fellow ought to be left alone

Alone, alone, to be left alone

So come on all you sailors, the waves you ride
Take no more whales from the oceans, wide
but trade your lances for plows to wield
and go inland to till the fields

The fields, fields, go and till the fields