Author/Performer: John Connoly
Fiddler's Green
Oh Fid-dlers green is a place I've heard
tell
Where fish-er-men go If they don't go to
hell
Where the weath-er is fair and the
dol-phins do play
And the cold coast of Green-land is far
far a-way
Dress me up in my oil-skins and jum-per
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old ship-mates
I'm tak-ing a trip mates
And I'll see you some-day on Fid- dlers
Green
Dress me up in me oilskin 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 them someday in Fiddler's Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where fishermen go when 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
The sky's always clear and there's never a gale
And the fish jump on board with a flip of their tail
You can lie at your leisure, there's no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew
And when you're in dock and the long trip is thru
There's pubs and there's clubs, and there's lassies there too
Now the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there's bottles of rum hanging from every tree
I don't want a harp or a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
And I'll play me old squeeze box as we sail along
When the wind's in the rigging to sing me this song.
