Call Me Ishmael; volume 2

by Patrick Shea

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1.
The Lamp 01:55
Chapter 97: The Lamp I'm bathed in the light, I shine in the purity -- A tailor of right, Equal luminosity. And the vessels of light are the common vials Of the everyday man Emptied of their recipe, Retooled to help us see. I live at the roots, The primal dichotomy -- A fork in the road, A choice in its infancy. And I'm filling our lamps with the murdered beasts. Only nature can lead From the fool's eternity, Untainted by human beings. Sleep in the light as if I'm only Closing my eyes for a while. I'm bathed in the light, I shine in the purity -- A tailor of right, Equal luminosity. And the vessels of light are the common vials Of the everyday man Emptied of their recipe, Retooled to help us see. And the vessels of light are the common vials, And the vessels of light are the common vials, And the vessels of light are the common vials Of the everyday man, To help us see. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
2.
Cetology 01:53
Chapter 32: Cetology You decide, And science will accommodate! You decide, And science will allow For your base impressions To rule their calculated epiphanies -- Spread it on the breeze, And deep into the seas. We're the same inside, But you can't oppress a man, So they must Be of beast -- Well they live like beasts. You decide! For your base impressions To rule their calculated epiphanies -- Spread it on the breeze, And deep into the seas. Let the science ride; Be as simple as you can! Darker skin: different race, Harder work, submissive face. Speak eugenically! You decide, And science will accommodate! You decide, And science will allow For your base impressions To rule their calculated epiphanies. Spread it on the breeze, And deep into the seas. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
3.
The Cassock 02:09
Chapter 95: The Cassock Drag me up from the depths Of your wandering soul, Let me light your fire, Baby, you know! Chain me up to the side Of a perishing race Of resistance, Baby, you know! It's a long time coming now! It's a long time coming now! Take the blackest flesh As a garment to wear For the portioning Of spiritual wealth. Slice it thin, father, Thin as a Bible leaf 'Til it breaks you, Baby, you know! It's a long time coming now! It's a long time coming now! Isn't God defined As a total control, So if you fought and won His power for all It would still be a choice That your God had made And you'd still be A subject enslaved? It's a long time coming now! It's a long time coming now! © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
4.
The Ramadan 02:25
Chapter 17: The Ramadan No suicides here, And no smoking in the parlor, dear. He's locked himself inside -- I'm shut out 'til the rising tide. The keyhole affords No better view than half the floor -- He's nowhere to be seen Beyond his weapon in the corner leaning. Queequeg prays (sit alone in the cold for your Ramadan With Yojo on your head) to the God who gives him voice; It's the choice of every man. Queequeg prays (sit alone in the cold for your Ramadan With Yojo on your head); oh, who am I to say That my Christian faith's the only way. I burst into the room -- Shuttered like a bud to bloom, My best friend remains In the piety of pagan names. I tell him when he wakes, Religion needn't cause him pain. He smiles back at me, In friendship, never condescension. Queequeg prays (sit alone in the cold for your Ramadan With Yojo on your head) to the God who gives him voice; It's the choice of every man. Queequeg prays (sit alone in the cold for your Ramadan With Yojo on your head); oh, who am I to say That my Christian faith's the only way. Queequeg prays. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
5.
Chapter 75: The Right Whale's Head -- Contrasted View We're all in the whale's mouth, Swallowed whole by a sullen pout -- The king of the ocean, With Stoic emotion. Hey! Look at all the oil we got! Hey, hey , hey! The tongue and lip and blanket's off! And ladies, hey ladies!, here's a little savagery for you -- Not a little savagery. Step in this mouth, It's twelve feet tall. (Oh, no, no, twelve feet tall!) Pipe organ bones, So worshipful. (Oh, oh, oh worshipful.) It's the teepee of an Indian; I swear I'll never sin again! Hey! Look at all the oil we got! Hey, hey, hey! Order in the sea's chaos! And ladies, hey ladies!, here's a little savagery for you -- Oppressive little savagery! And ladies, hey ladies!, here's a little savagery for you -- Not a little savagery. It's the teepee of an Indian; I swear I'll never sin again! Hey! Look at all the oil we got! Hey, hey, hey! Order in the sea's chaos! And ladies, hey ladies!, here's a little savagery for you -- Oppressive little savagery! And ladies, hey ladies!, here's a little savagery for you -- Not a little savagery. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
6.
Chapter 57: Of Whales in Paint; in Teeth; in Wood; in Sheet-Iron; in Stone; in Mountains; in Stars Crush uncrushable seas beneath a tempest's tail. Spur impetuously into the primal. Right or wrong, the trained of form will miss you. God alone can carve you Into the mountainous, Celestial countenance, Into the stones and bones And token homes of sailors' souls. Fight the kraken where the bastion overflows, And no striation could subsume the war machine. Weak or strong, a man could never tame you. May God impress your savage form Into the mountainous, Celestial countenance, Into the stones and bones And token homes of sailors' souls. Weak or strong, a man could never tame you. May God impress your savage form Into the mountainous, Celestial countenance, Into the stones and bones And token homes of sailors' souls. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
7.
Breakfast 01:36
Chapter 5: Breakfast You've travelled the world and the eastern seas, You've travelled the world. You're made of the great human melodies From all over the world. And you'd think it's a matter of deepest sympathy To be out in the world, But then you run, run, From the great menagerie -- You haven't a word! You've sailed in time to the harshest breeze, All over the world. You've never been graced with a luxury, And never preferred. But then you run, run, From the great menagerie -- You haven't a word! And you'd think it's a matter of deepest sympathy To be out in the world, But you're turning Inward, baby, take your time -- You're out in the world! © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
8.
Chapter 36: The Quarter-Deck All visible things Are but a sculpted mask Held before the visage Of some unspeakable truth, Nothing known but for our suffering. I'll strike at the mask, Never mind it agent Or principal. And I'd fight the sun If it aimed at any pride In all my Earthly bounty; Scattering, every ember shared For eternity. The knots in my mind Tighten 'round a critical Density, And furrow into my brow With an irresistible gravity. Now pass the cup And we'll ration out The victory. And I'd fight the sun If it aimed at any pride In all my Earthly bounty; Scattering, every ember shared For eternity. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
9.
The Candles 02:20
Chapter 119: The Candles Lay out your vestments On the altar, and pour libations (Hear us sing our spirits high!). Burn us in perdition As an offering for your salvation (Sha na na na na na na na!). Standing on the back of The devil himself. I'll shout you off the mountain, No matter the feat. You made me from the fire And I'll bring it to you! So you're the light that sprung from An utter darkness (you'll never know what made you be). Well I'm the darkness sprung from Your utter lightness (She na na na na na na na!). You're everywhere at once. You're never with me. Strength is in the human Personality. We made into a person An impersonal being. Here's to the oath, mighty ruin! We've taken an oath, never truant! The hour is nigh, come alive! Come alive! Lay out your vestments On the altar, and pour libations (Hear us sing our spirits high!). © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
10.
Chapter 87: The Grand Armada The center of the tempest, A situated bastion, a nursery. It's an internal escape From the great colonial rape, Cunning and relentless. A league of opposition, The grand armada, frightened and meek, As a herd of buffalo, From a horseman charged alone, Scatters into ashes. So piracy -- We're rising up Between the spaces Of formality, And, lo, We're coming to Our own conclusions . . . Death before hegemony! The murder of cohesion, Confusion in the waters, a panicking. Resist the very sun, That never needs to rest -- They'll get you while you're breathing. Resist the very sun, That never needs to rest -- They'll get you while you're breathing. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
11.
The Forge 02:04
Chapter 113: The Forge Pierce my heart! Lift the lonely curse of mystery. Hold me fast, And forgive the choice we never had. I've heard the hollow ring of ivory on the deck; I've felt the final sting of needles and pins. Smooth your brow! Beat the creases into destiny. Forge your steel, Temper all intent in liberty. I've heard the hollow ring of ivory on the deck; I've felt the final sting of needles and pins. Tell me, blacksmith, Do you live in the devil's heat Without a singe? Do you sharpen the killer's beak Without a singe? Pierce my heart! But I'll break the bond between us. Fighters fight -- Oh it's nothing, only the natural order. I've heard the hollow ring of ivory on the deck; I've felt the final sting of needles and pins. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
12.
Chapter 117: The Whale Watch Haven't you read Macbeth, old man? Though the prophecy promised you'll never die, It's gonna be bad. 'Til Burnham Wood comes to Dunsinane, And nothing but hemp can kill you -- Ahab, you're fucking insane. You hear what you want Whenever you want it. You do what you should Whenever you choose. Everybody heard Fedallah say: You're gonna die, you're gonna die. And Fedallah knows what he's telling you: You're gonna die, you're gonna die. Neither coffin nor hearse can be thine -- It's a civilized comfort to be buried inside That your nature denied. We can't even call it irony -- He told you that you'll die when the Pequod sinks, And he said it plainly. You hear what you want Whenever you want it. You do what you should Whenever you choose. Everybody heard Fedallah say: You're gonna die, you're gonna die. And Fedallah knows what he's telling you: You're gonna die, you're gonna die. Haven't you read Macbeth, old man? Though the prophecy promised you'll never die, It's gonna be bad. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
13.
Chapter 29: Enter Ahab; to him, Stubb Summer nights I've been sailing on the oceans of memory, A vision I've been saving of you. Following you In a passion, my actions are a remedy For the truth. Summer nights I've been pacing, cracked upon your every dream; Sleep feels like I'll slumber indefinitely. Up from my tomb In a restless, ponderous oppressiveness Over you. The days are overflowing with peacefulness, The warmth of but a passing goodbye. I stand upon the only Leg you left to hold me Upright in the great ecstasy! Summer nights All I want is another dance for you and me, A chance to make you forever mine. Longing for you Is a purpose, an absolute subversiveness Of the rules. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
14.
Chapter 56: Of the Less Erroneous Pictures of Whales, and the True Pictures of Whaling Scenes Poetry in motion! Poetry in motion! So chop away At their flanks, come on! Poetry in motion! Poetry in motion! The war identity Captured in every painting, Good and true. You'll never have a picture Without the reckoning force, The justice of the scriptures, Of nature's course! Humans live in the action! Humans live in the action! Construct a narrative Through adversaries, oh! Humans live in the action! Humans live in the action! Emotions conquering Our studied observations For the truth. You'll never have a picture Without the reckoning force, The justice of the scriptures, Of nature's course! Poetry in motion! Poetry in motion! So chop away At their flanks, come on! Poetry in motion! Poetry in motion! The war identity Captured in every painting, Good and true. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
15.
The Castaway 02:05
Chapter 93: The Castaway As my body's buoyed So my soul does sink -- Beheld the primal device! In the open ocean, I'm the center stage -- Like the sun, castaway. And I never knew What a concentrated Mass of self rests in me always. Do I seem a little crazy? Heaven never speaks with reason, And I could never surmise How to speak with reason. I'm frail in body, But I've held the weight Of God on my undisguised soul! And I'm here before you As a Titan stands -- Terrorize all rationality. Do I seem a little crazy? Heaven never speaks with reason, And I could never surmise How to speak with reason. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
16.
The Hat 01:42
Chapter 130: The Hat Intents and purposes are clear -- Hoist you up into the stratosphere. A sycophantic sort of sight -- The greater vantage offered less, perspective-wise. You cast a shadow on the deck, It's staring out into the infinite, And though you're perched above a mirror, You'll never see your own reflection any clearer. Depended on your opposition To leverage you into a god's position, And then protect you in your nest, A cunning ruler to enfranchise your enemies. A bird of omen! A bird of omen! A bird of the seas! A bird of omen! A bird of omen! Took the curtains off the windows of the castle of your soul, The obsfucation of the dark below, And flew into the current of time, And dropped your crown Into the fertile ground Anew! © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
17.
Dusk 01:36
Chapter 38: Dusk Starbuck: He's a democrat to all above, Taking power for everyone, But in the end he's a tyrant to his brothers, Hand in hand. He hypnotized my reasoning, Stripped me as a human being, As if I was taken by a demon, Faltering. Chorus: We are the crew of Captain Ahab! We're going to rule the sea! We are the crew of Captain Ahab, We are free! Starbuck: We're going to Hell! See the revelry! Hell! Dragging us to sea! Hell! And the darkness left of life. His torment strangely did compel An oath be taken to rebel. Throw off your chains for yet another Kind of yoke! Chorus: We are the crew of Captain Ahab! Nursed among the sharks! We are the crew of Captain Ahab, Men apart! Starbuck and [Chorus]: We're going to Hell! [We are the crew! We are the crew!] Hell! [We are the crew! We are the crew!] Hell! [We are the crew! We are the crew!] [We are free!] © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea
18.
Going Aboard 02:38
Chapter 21: Going Aboard The tongues of an ebbing tide Lapping against the boat, And the light of the coming dawn glowing far and wide. The silence that stills a heart, And the fog that begins to lift With the shadows that stow away under the boards. We're the undertakers of the coming tragedy! Turning our backs, the prophet makes us family. We're the undertakers of the coming tragedy! Fatten us up for footstools, come the coming feat. Warnings upon the breeze, As it teases against the sails As a portent of future speed bracing the yard. Nowhere a soul to stir. The cabin is locked up tight. Smoking with sleeping rigors deep in the bow. We're the undertakers of the coming tragedy! Turning our backs, the prophet makes us family. We're the undertakers of the coming tragedy! Fatten us up for footstools, come the coming feat. © and ℗ 2009 Patrick Shea

about

Buy the book at: www.lulu.com/shop/patrick-shea/call-me-ishmael/paperback/product-20300323.html

In the summer of 2008, Brooklyn elementary school teacher and musician Patrick Shea set two goals for himself—to read Moby-Dick, and to write a song every day for two months. Those two goals quickly merged to become to beginning of the Call Me Ishmael project. Three years later, Shea had written, recorded, and blogged about all 135 chapters of Moby-Dick, plus the epilogue.

The book contains the lyrics to all 136 songs from the project, along with free downloads of all 8 volumes of music. The book also includes an introduction to the project as a whole, and an afterword for each volume of songs, written by the author.

Some responses to the project:

"Patrick Shea’s highly imaginative, wide-ranging song cycle takes us chapter-by-chapter through Moby-Dick. Shea’s innovative, haunting lyrics share the fecundity and suggestiveness of Melville’s dazzling novel."
--David Reynolds, Distinguished Professor at the CUNY Graduate Center

"There is music in Moby-Dick because Melville put it there. But there is another kind of music that comes from readers who, once they have read Moby-Dick, simply have to sing. Lucky, then, that we have Patrick Shea whose clever, amusing, stirring, happy, sad songs do not attempt to retell Melville's classic story but give added musicality and life to Melville's thought."
--John Bryant, Editor of the Melville Society and Professor of English at Hofstra University

"Patrick Shea’s songs are deeply insightful responses to Melville’s masterpiece. They illuminate the power of Moby-Dick and enrich our experience of that remarkable novel. Shea understands that, at its heart, Moby-Dick is an orchestral work. Its chords resonate throughout Shea’s lyrics."
--Bill Kelly, President of the CUNY Graduate Center

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released April 1, 2009

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Patrick Shea Brooklyn, New York

Patrick is a nerd, a book lover, a math afficianado, an Ishmael, and an Ahab. He lives in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn with his wife and two daughters. He grew up in Portland, OR; and has also lived in Grinnell, IA (for college); and Austin, TX.

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