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Fiddlers Glen

Misc Traditional

Text File

#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------##
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From: Wes Jester 
Subject: /IRISH/Fiddlers_Green.crd
To: jamesb@animal-farm.nevada.edu
Date: Thu, 24 Jun 93 13:34:45 EDT
Mailer: Elm [revision: 70.85]






                                    Fiddlers Green
                                                 CAPO  none 

          G                                          Em
          As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair
                                                  Am Am7 D7
          To view the salt water and take the sea air
            C                      G         Bm    
          I heard an old fisherman singing a song
                    Am                   C           D7
          Won't you take me away boys my time is not long

                            G        D            G
          CHORUS:   Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumper
                       C           G             D
                    no more on the docks I'll be seen
                         C                          G        Bm
                    Just tell me old ship mates I'm taking a trip mates
                        Am           D7                  G
                    And I'll see you someday in Fiddlers Green


          Now Fiddlers Green is a place I hear tell
          Where fishermen go if they don't go to hell
          Where the skies are all clear and the dolphins do play
          And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

          CHO:

          When you get to the docks and the long trip is thru
          There's pub and there's clubs and there's lassies there too
          Where the girls are all pretty and beer it is free
          And there's bottles of rum growing from every tree

          CHO:

          Now I don't want a harp or a halo, not me
          Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
          I'll play me old squeeze box as we sail along
          With the wind in the rigging to sing us a song

          CHO: