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As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt water and take the sea air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Won t you take me away boys my time is not long
CHORUS: Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumper
no more on the docks I ll be seen
Just tell me old ship mates I m taking a trip mates
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:
