Title:

Fiddler's Green

Notes on this song:

This song is about an old sailor nearing the end of his days. Fiddler's Green is where old sailors who die on land go (if they were good during their time on earth). Those who die at sea got to Davy Jones' Locker. The origin of the idea of Fiddler's Green is unclear, but probably dates back to at least the early 1800s.

A US Cavalry manual from 1923 contained a ballad about Fiddler's Green. Here's a verse:

Halfway down the road to hell,
In a shady meadow green,
Are the souls of all dead troopers camped
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddler's Green.

***

Resources for more information

Lyrics:

As I walked past the dockside one evening so fair
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

Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper
No more on these docks I'll be seen
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green

Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where sailormen 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

Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper
No more on these docks I'll be seen
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green

Where the sky's always clear and there's never a gale
And the fish jump on board with a swish of their tail
Where you lie at your leisure and there's no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew

Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper
No more on these docks I'll be seen
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green

And when you are docked and your 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 is all free
And there's bottles of rum growing off every tree

Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper
No more on these docks I'll be seen
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green

Now I don't want a harp or a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
And I'll play my old squeeze box as we sail a long
With the wind in the rigging to sing me this song.

Wrap me up in my oilskins and jumper
No more on these docks I'll be seen
Just tell my old shipmates I'm taking a trip mates
I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green