Fiddlers Green taby ukulele według Dubliners

F             A#            F          Dm
   As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair,
         F            A#          F             C
    to view the salt waters and take the salt air,
         A#                      F
    I heard an old fisherman singing a song,
                  C            F            C
    'Oh take me away boys, me time is not long'.

CHORUS
        F          C           F
Wrap me up in me oilskins and jumpers,
    A#           F             C
no more on the docks I'll be seen.
      A#                           F
Just tell me old shipmates, I'm taking a trip, mates,
     C                        C7         F
and I'll see you some day on Fiddler's Green.

        F          A#          F               Dm
   Now A#iddler's Creen is a place I've heard tell,
               F         A#          F           C
   where the fishermen go if they don't go to hell.
                A#                            F
    Where the skies are all clear and the dolphins do play,
                             C              F    C
    and the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away.
  
CHORUS
                F            A#                 F      Dm
   Where the skies are all clear and there's never a gale,
             F            A#              F              C
    and the fish jump on board with one swish of their tail.
               A#                           F
    Where you lie at your leisure, there's no work to do,
                         C          F            C
    and the skipper's below making tea for the crew.
  
CHORUS
             F           A#              F             Dm 
   When you get back on docks and the long trip is through,
           F                   A#                 F              C
    there's pubs and there's clubs and there's lassies there, too.
               A#                             F
    Where the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free,
                            C           F          C
    and there's bottles of rum growing from every tree.
  
CHORUS
           F            A#          F         Dm 
    Now I don't want a harp nor a halo, not me,
         F            A#          F           C
    just give me a breeze on a good rolling sea.
         A#                          F
    I'll play me old squeezebox as we sail along,
                        C            F         C
    with the wind in the rigging to sing me a song.  

CHORUS