The legend lives on, from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore, 26,000 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 a captain well seasoned.
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms,
When it left fully loaded for Cleveland,
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
As a wave broke over the railing,
And every man knew as the captain did too,
Was the Witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late; the breakfast had to wait,
When the gales of November came slashing.
When afternoon came it was freezing rain,
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed you."
At seven pm, a main hatchway caved in,
Said, "Fellas, it's been good to know you."
The captain wired in he had water coming in.
The good ship and crew was in peril,
And later that night when its 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 them.
They may have broke deep and took water.
All that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives, the sons, the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice water mansions.
Old Michigan steams like a young person's dreams,
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her.
The iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
At 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 called Gitchee Gumee.
Lake Superior, it is said, never gives up her dead,
When the gales of November come early.
🎵 LRC歌词版本
The legend lives on, from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore, 26,000 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 a captain well seasoned.
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms,
When it left fully loaded for Cleveland,
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
As a wave broke over the railing,
And every man knew as the captain did too,
Was the Witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late; the breakfast had to wait,
When the gales of November came slashing.
When afternoon came it was freezing rain,
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed you."
At seven pm, a main hatchway caved in,
Said, "Fellas, it's been good to know you."
The captain wired in he had water coming in.
The good ship and crew was in peril,
And later that night when its 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 them.
They may have broke deep and took water.
All that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives, the sons, the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice water mansions.
Old Michigan steams like a young person's dreams,
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her.
The iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
At 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 called Gitchee Gumee.
Lake Superior, it is said, never gives up her dead,
When the gales of November come early.
📝 纯歌词版本
The legend lives on, from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore, 26,000 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 a captain well seasoned.
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms,
When it left fully loaded for Cleveland,
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
As a wave broke over the railing,
And every man knew as the captain did too,
Was the Witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late; the breakfast had to wait,
When the gales of November came slashing.
When afternoon came it was freezing rain,
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed you."
At seven pm, a main hatchway caved in,
Said, "Fellas, it's been good to know you."
The captain wired in he had water coming in.
The good ship and crew was in peril,
And later that night when its 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 them.
They may have broke deep and took water.
All that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives, the sons, the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice water mansions.
Old Michigan steams like a young person's dreams,
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her.
The iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
At 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 called Gitchee Gumee.
Lake Superior, it is said, never gives up her dead,
When the gales of November come early.
🎵 LRC歌词版本
The legend lives on, from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they called Gitchee Gumee.
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore, 26,000 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 a captain well seasoned.
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms,
When it left fully loaded for Cleveland,
And later that night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound,
As a wave broke over the railing,
And every man knew as the captain did too,
Was the Witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late; the breakfast had to wait,
When the gales of November came slashing.
When afternoon came it was freezing rain,
In the face of a hurricane west wind.
When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck,
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed you."
At seven pm, a main hatchway caved in,
Said, "Fellas, it's been good to know you."
The captain wired in he had water coming in.
The good ship and crew was in peril,
And later that night when its 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 them.
They may have broke deep and took water.
All that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives, the sons, the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice water mansions.
Old Michigan steams like a young person's dreams,
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her.
The iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered.
In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
At 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 called Gitchee Gumee.
Lake Superior, it is said, never gives up her dead,
When the gales of November come early.
Martin Tielli
Take me in your hand
And put me back into the nest.
Make me feel like a little bird.
'Cause everything I hear
And everything I see makes...
Dave Clark
Full moon hanging in the sky.
Sun it *******nes on the other side of the line
That it won't dare to cross...
Because the equator is the bos...
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Another trucker stumbles up the steps into my kiosk for directions,
Too wasted to see the map I'm showing him.
He wanted to bust the gla...
Martin Tielli
Joey pulled himself to his feet,
Hauled his body back up the bank
And looked back down there.
He said the water was not that deep;
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You make me feel like dirt
And I'm hurt
And if I start a commotion
I run the risk of losing you
And that's worse
Ever fallen in love with someone
Ever...
Say fresh we goin back home on this one right here ya heard me
See the ladies was buckin from left to right
And the dudes was thuggin from side to sid...