As I walked by the dockside one evening so rare
To view the salt waters and take the salt air
I spied an old fisherman singing a song
ah take me away boys me time is not long
Wrap me up in me oilskins 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 some day in Fiddler's Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I hear tell
Where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell
weather is fair and the dolphins do PLAY
And the cold coast of Finland is far, far away
Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale
And the fish jump on board with a swish of their tails
Where you lie at your leisure, there's no work to do
And the skipper's below MAKING tea for the crew.
When you get back on dock and the journey's through
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there too
the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free
And there's bottles of rum growing from every tree
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 rigging to sing me a song