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The Tragically Hip

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The Tragically Hip

Fiddler's Green

Lyricist：Robert Baker, Gord Downie, John Fay, Paul Langlois, Gordon Sinclair

September seventeen for a girl I know, it's Mother's day
Her son has gone alee and that's where he will stay
Wind on the weather vane, tearin' blue eyes sailor mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain, for a boy in Fiddler's Green

His tiny knotted heart, well, I guess it never worked too good
The timber tore apart and the water gorged the wood
You can hear her whispered prayer for men at masts that always lean
The same wind that moves her hair, moves her boy through Fiddler's Green
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Nothing's changed anyway
Nothing's changed anyway
Anytime today

It doesn't know a soul, there's nowhere that he's really been
But he won't travel long alone no, not in Fiddler's Green
Balloons all filled with rain as children's eyes turn sleepy mean
And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain for a boy in Fiddler's Green