Pulled up in the harbor with the frost on the deck,

Steamed whale urethra got the whole crew wrecked,

Chef in the galley yellin’ “boy, show respect,”

But the smell hit hard like a punch to the neck.

Iceberg drip, fur coat, all gray,

Bubblin’ pot smokin’ up the whole bay,

Everybody act tough till the spoon come they way,

Then they chew real slow with a thousand-yard gaze.

Midnight tide with the diesel hum loud,

Steam rise thick like a thundercloud,

Old heads noddin’ like they king of the crowd,

While I’m prayin’ to survive and still act proud.

Salt on my boots, snow all white,

Moonlight gleam in the dead cold night,

One bite down and my soul took flight,

Had me questionin’ every life choice right.

URETHRA! URETHRA!

Trap house freezer full of ocean loot,

Harpoon chrome with the matching boots,

Captain got gold on his waterproof suit,

And a narwhal chain hang low to the roots.

Whole squad feastin’ at the dockside shack,

Steam hit the ceiling then it bounced right back,

Taste so wild make your eyebrows crack,

But the elders say “that’s that authentic pack.”

LET'S SEE YOUR URETHRA!!!

Cook it low, let it simmer all day,

Arctic gourmet in a criminal way,

Penguin fur rug where the huskies lay,

While the wind outside sing hymns through the bay.

Big pot bubble like a bassline slap,

Everybody quiet when they open that wrap,

One dude folded and he took a nap,

Said the whale spirit spoke through the trap.

My URETHRA is bigger than your URETHRA![×7]

Snowmobile slide with the red lights flashin’,

Seal skin gloves and the ice keep crashin’,

Steam whale urethra, legendary ration,

Taste buds gone but the culture everlasting.

Ancient recipe pass hand to hand,

Built for survival in the frozen land,

You ain’t built tough if you can’t withstand,

That ocean funk hit harder than a marching band.

Northern lights dance while the speakers knock,

Frozen wristwatch still floodin’ the dock,

Steam cloud rise like fog off the block,

Every chew feel heavy like a cinderblock.

Crew too cold, got icicles swingin’,

Sea shanty trap with the whole gang singin’,

Pot so cursed hear the tea kettle ringin’,

Even the seagulls stopped flappin’ and wingin’.

Sunrise pink on the glacier face,

Empty bowls stacked all over the place,

Whale steam linger with the permanent trace,

Still smell weird but we finished the plate.

Legends get made where the cold wind blow,

Where the weirdest meals turn to folklore,

Trap beat echo from the ice below,

Steamed whale urethra — that’s the Arctic flow.