Irish Air - Fiddler's Green

As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair

To view the salt waters and take in the salt air

I heard an old fisherman singing a song

Oh, take me away boys me time is not long

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets

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 on Fiddlers Green

Now 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

Now when you’re in dock and the long trip is through

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

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

And there’s bottles of rum growing on every tree

Where the skies are all clear and there’s never a gail

And the fish jump on board with one swish on their tail

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

And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew

Now I don’t want a harp nor 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 riggin to sing me a song