As I walked by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt water and taste the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing this song
O take me away boys me time is not long

 [bad word] 
Wrap me up in me oilskin and jumper
No more on the docks I'll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates
I'm taking a trip, mates
And I'll see you someday on Fiddler's Green

Now Fiddler's Green is a place I've heard tell
Where fishermen go if they don't go to [bad word] 
Where the sky's all clear and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

 [bad word] 

When the sky's all clear so it's never a gale
And the fish jump on board with a switch of their tail
And you lie at your leisure and no work to do
And the skipper's below making tea for the crew

 [bad word] 

When you get back in dock and the long trip is [bad word] 
There's pubs and there's clubs, and there's lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer it is free
And the bottles [bad word] growing from every tree

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

 [bad word]