Fiddler's Green
The DublinersVersion1
90
Chords in this song
Strum
D-DU-UDU
As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair,
to view the salt waters and take the salt air,
I heard an old fisherman singing a song,
'Oh take me away boys, me time is not long'.
Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumpers,
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 on Fiddler's Green.
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell,
where the 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.
Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale,
and the fish jump on board with one swish of their tail.
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 docks and the long trip is through,
there's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there, too.
Where 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 on a good rolling sea.
I'll play me old squeezebox as we sail along,
with the wind in the rigging to sing me a song.
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Readable chord sheet for Fiddler's Green by The Dubliners
As I wa[C]lked by the do[F]ckside one ev[C]ening so fa[Am]ir,
to vi[C]ew the salt w[F]aters and t[C]ake the salt a[G]ir,
I hea[F]rd an old fisherman sin[C]ging a song,
'Oh take me aw[G]ay boys, me t[C]ime is not lo[G]ng'.
Wrap me [C]up in me oi[G]lskins and j[C]umpers,
no m[F]ore on the d[C]ocks I'll be s[G]een.
Just t[F]ell me old shipmates, I'm ta[C]king a trip, mates,
and I[G]'ll see you some day on F[G7]iddler's Gr[C]een.
Now F[C]iddler's Gr[F]een is a pl[C]ace I've heard t[Am]ell,
where the fi[C]shermen go[F] if they do[C]n't go to he[G]ll.
Where the sk[F]ies are all clear and the dol[C]phins do play,
and the cold coast of Gre[G]enland is far, [C]far a[G]way.
Where the ski[C]es are all cl[F]ear and there's ne[C]ver a g[Am]ale,
and the f[C]ish jump on b[F]oard with one s[C]wish of their t[G]ail.
Where you l[F]ie at your leisure, there's [C]no work to do,
and the skipper's bel[G]ow making t[C]ea for the cr[G]ew.
When you g[C]et back on d[F]ocks and the lo[C]ng trip is thr[Am]ough,
there's[C] pubs and there's cl[F]ubs and there's la[C]ssies there, to[G]o.
Where the g[F]irls are all pretty and the be[C]er it is free,
and there's bottles of r[G]um growing f[C]rom every t[G]ree.
Now I d[C]on't want a h[F]arp nor a h[C]alo, not m[Am]e,
just [C]give me a bre[F]eze on a go[C]od rolling s[G]ea.
I'll [F]play me old squeezebox as w[C]e sail along,
with the wind in the[G] rigging to s[C]ing me a s[G]ong.