4 May 2010 0 Comments

Fiddlers Green

As I walked by the dockside one evening so rare

To view the still water and take the salt air

I heard an old fisherman singing this song

Oh take me away boys my time is not long


Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper

No more on the docks I’ll be seen

Just tell me old shipmates I’m taking a trip mates

And I’ll see you someday in Fiddler’s Green

Oh Fiddler’s Green is a place I’ve heard tell

Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to hell

Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play

And the cold coast of Greenland is far far away

Where the sky’s always clear and there’s never a gale

Where the fish jump on board with a swish of their tail

Where you lie at your leisure there’s no work to do

And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew

When you get back in dock and the long trip is through

There’s pubs and there’s clubs and there’s lasses there too

Where the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free

And there’s bottles of rum growing from every tree

No I don’t want a harp nor a halo not me

Just give me a breeze on a good rolling sea

And I’ll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along

With the wind in the rigging to sing me this song

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