As I walked by the dockside on evening so rare To view the salt water and taste the salt air, I heard an old fisherman singing this song; Saying; ‘Take me away, boys, me time is not long.’ Dress me up in me oilskins an’ jumper. No more on the docks I’ll be seen. Jus’ tell me ole shipmates, I’m takin’ a trip, mates, An’ I’ll see you someday on th’ Fiddler’s Green.
Oh, th’ Fiddler’s Green is a place I heard tell, Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to Hell. Where the weather is fair an’ the dolphins do play, An’ the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away.
Where the weather is fair an’ theres never a gale. Where the fish jump on board with a swish of their tail. Where ye lie at yer leisure, there’s no work to do. An’ the skipper’s below makin’ tea fer the crew.
When ye get back in dock an’ the long trip is through. Why, there’s pubs an’ there’s clubs an’ there’s lassies there too. Where the gals are all pretty an’ the beer’s all free, An’ there’s bottles of rum growin’ from every tree.
I don’t want a harp, nor a halo, not me. Just give me a breeze an’ a calm rollin’ sea. An’ I’ll play me ol’ squeeze box as we sail along, With the wind in the riggin’ to sing me this song.
