Fiddler's Green
Written by John Conolly


As I roved by the dockside one evening so rare,
To view the still waters and take the salt air,
I heard an old fisherman singing this song:
"Oh, take me away, boys, my time is not long.

"Dress me up in my oilskins and jumper,
No more on the docks I'll be seen;
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip, mates,
And I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green.

"Now, Fiddler's Green is a place, I've heard tell,
Where 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.

"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.

"Dress me up in my oilskins and jumper,
No more on the docks I'll be seen;
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip, mates,
And I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green.

"And when you're in dock and the long trip is through,
There's pubs and there's clubs and there's lasses there, too;
The girls are all pretty and the beer is all free,
And there's bottles of rum growing on every tree.

"Dress me up in my oilskins and jumper,
No more on the docks I'll be seen;
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip, mates,
And I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green.

"I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me,
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea;
And I'll play my old squeezebox as we sail along,
With the wind in the rigging to sing me this song."

"Dress me up in my oilskins and jumper,
No more on the docks I'll be seen;
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip, mates,
And I'll see you someday in Fiddler's Green.

©1966 John Conolly ©1970 for the world, March Music Ltd., March, Cambs, UK