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
Wrap 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 you one day on Fiddler's Green
Now Fiddler's Green is a place I 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
When you get on the docks and the long trip is through
There's pubs 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 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 this song