Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald - Gordon Lightfoot

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of November turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the gales of November came early The ship was the pride of the American side Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most With a crew and good captain well seasoned Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms When they left fully loaded for Cleveland Then later that night when the ship's bell rang Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'? The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound When the wave broke over the railing And every man knew, as the captain did too 'Twas the witch of November come stealin' The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait When the gales of November came slashin' When afternoon came it was freezing rain In the face of a hurricane west wind When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck Sayin' "Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya" At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in He said, "Fellas, it's been good to know ya" The captain wired in he had water comin' in And the good ship and crew was in peril And later that night when his lights went out of sight Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald Does anyone know where the love of God goes When the waves turn the minutes to hours The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her They might have split up or they might have capsized They may have broke deep and took water And all that remains is the faces and the names Of the wives and the sons and the daughters Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings In the rooms of her ice-water mansion Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams The islands and bays are for sportsmen And farther below, Lake Ontario Takes in what Lake Erie can send her And the iron boats go as the mariners all know With the gales of November remembered In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee Superior, they said, never gives up her dead When the gales of November come early

The legend lives on from the chippewa on down Of the big lake they called 'gitche gumee' The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of november turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the edmund fitzgerald weighed empty. That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed When the gales of november came early. The ship was the pride of the american side Coming back from some mill in wisconsin As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most With a crew and good captain well seasoned Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms When they left fully loaded for cleveland And later that night when the ship's bell rang Could it be the north wind they'd been feelin'? The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound And a wave broke over the railing And every man knew, as the captain did too, T'was the witch of november come stealin'. The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait When the gales of november came slashin'. When afternoon came it was freezin' rain In the face of a hurricane west wind. When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin'. Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya. At seven p.m. a main hatchway caved in, he said Fellas, it's been good t'know ya The captain wired in he had water comin' in And the good ship and crew was in peril. And later that night when his lights went outta sight Came the wreck of the edmund fitzgerald. Does any one know where the love of god goes When the waves turn the minutes to hours? The searches all say they'd have made whitefish bay If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her. They might have split up or they might have capsized; May have broke deep and took water. And all that remains is the faces and the names Of the wives and the sons and the daughters. Lake huron rolls, superior sings In the rooms of her ice-water mansion. Old michigan steams like a young man's dreams; The islands and bays are for sportsmen. And farther below lake ontario Takes in what lake erie can send her, And the iron boats go as the mariners all know With the gales of november remembered. In a musty old hall in detroit they prayed, In the maritime sailors' cathedral. The church bell chimed till it rang twenty-nine times For each man on the edmund fitzgerald. The legend lives on from the chippewa on down Of the big lake they call 'gitche gumee'. Superior, they said, never gives up her dead When the gales of november come early!

They gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia Sayin', "Steve, you're way behind time It's 8: 38, and it's the old '97, gotta put her into Danville on time" Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made Steve Brady he said to his black, greasy fireman "Shovel on a little more coal I'm waitin' to pass them wide-open mountains Gonna see the old '97 roll" Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made He's comin' down that line makin' 90 miles an hour The whistle broke into a scream They found him in the wreck with his hand upon the throttle He'd been scalded to death by steam Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made Well, come on now, all you ladies From this time on, now learn Don't you ever say harsh words to your true-lovin' husband He'll leave you and never return Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made Well, he's comin' down that line makin' 90 miles an hour And the whistle broke into a scream They found him in the wreck with his hand upon the throttle He'd been scalded to death by steam Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made Well, it's a mighty rough road from Lynchburg down to Danville On a line with a three-mile grade It was down that line where he lost his air-brakes You can see what a jump he made

Well, they gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia Said, "Steve, you're way behind time This is not 38, this is Old 97 Put her into Spencer on time" Then he turned around and said to his black, greasy fireman "Shovel on a little more coal And when we cross that White Oak Mountain Watch Old 97 roll" And then a telegram come from Washington station This is how it read "Oh that brave engineer that run Old 97 Is lyin' in old Danville dead" 'Cause he was going down a grade making 90 miles an hour The whistle broke into a scream He was found in the wreck with his hand on the throttle Scalded to death by the steam One more time Oh, now all you ladies you'd better take a warning From this time on and learn Never speak hard words to your true-lovin' husband He may leave you and never return, poor boy

Who are these ones who would lead us now To the sound of a thousand guns Storm the gates of hell itself To the tune of a single drum Where are the girls of the neighborhood bars Whose loves were lost at sea In the hills of France and on German soil From Saigon to Wounded Knee Who come from long lines of soldiers Whose duty was fulfilled In the words of a warrior's will And protocol Where are the boys in their coats of blue Who flew when their eyes were blind Was God in town for the Roman games Was he there when the deals were signed Who are the kings in their coats of mail Who rode by the cross to die Did they all go down into worthiness Is it wrong for a king to cry And who are these ones who would have us now Whose presence is concealed Whose nature is revealed In a time bomb And last of all you old seadogs Who travel after whale You'd storm the gates of hell itself For the taste of a mermaid's tail Who come from long lines of skippers Whose duty was fulfilled In the words of a warrior's will And protocol

In the early morning rain with a dollar in my hand With an aching in my heart and my pockets full of sand Now, I'm a long way from home and I miss my loved ones so In the early morning rain with no place to go Out on runway number nine a big 707's set to go And I'm stuck here in the grass where the cold wind blows Now, the liquor tasted good and the women all were fast Well, there she goes, my friend, well she's going down at last Hear the mighty engines roar - see the silver bird on high She's away and westward bound - far above the clouds she'll fly There the morning rain don't fall and the sun always shines She'll be flying over my home in about three hours time This old airport's got me down - it's no earthly good to me 'Cause I'm stuck here on the ground as cold and drunk as I can be You can't jump a jet plane like you can a freight train So, I'd best be on my way in the early morning rain You can't jump a jet plane like you can a freight train So, I'd best be on my way in the early morning rain

Upon the Bitter Green she was The hills above the town Echoed to the footsteps As soft as eider down Waiting for her master To kiss away her tears Waiting through the years Bitter Green they called her Walking in the sun Loving everyone that she met Bitter Green they called her Waiting in the sun Waiting for someone to take her hand Some say he was a sailor Who died away at sea Some say he was a prisoner Who never was set free Lost upon the ocean He died there in the mist Dreaming of a kiss Bitter Green they called her Walking in the sun Loving everyone that she met Bitter Green they called her Waiting in the sun Waiting for someone to take her home. Musical Interlude But now, that Bitter Green is gone The hills have turned to rust There comes a weary stranger His tears fall in the dust Kneeling by the churchyard In the autumn mist Dreaming of a kiss Bitter Green they called her Walking in the sun Loving everyone that she met Bitter Green they called her Waiting in the sun Waiting for someone to take her hand Bitter Green they called her Walking in the sun Loving everyone that she met Bitter Green they called her Waiting in the sun Waiting for someone To take her hand

Turn around go back down go back the way you came Can't you see the flash of fire ten times brighter than the day And behold the mighty city broken in the dust again Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again Turn around go back down go back the way you came Babylon is laid to waste Egypt's buried in her shame Their mighty men are beaten down the kings are fallen in the ways Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again Turn around go back down go back the way you came Terror is on everyside though the leaders are dismayed Those who put their faith in fire in fire their faith shall be repaid Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again Turn around go back down go back the way you came Shout a warning to the nations that the sword of god is raised On Babylon that mighty city rich in treasure wide in fame It shall cause thy towers to fall and make it be a pyre of flame Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again Thou that dwell on many water rich in treasure wide in fame Bow unto a god of gold thy pride of might shall be thy shame Oh God the pride of man broken in the dust again And only God can lead the people back into the earth again Thy holy mountain be restored thy mercy on thy people Lord