Assume that someone got this already...but this is my fav
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 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.
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 ev'ry 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 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 t'feed ya."
At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in; he said,
(*2010 lyric change: At 7 p.m., it grew dark, it was then he said,)
"Fellas, it's bin 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 'is 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 searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
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!"
Even if someone already got it here. It's worth repeating.
One of the greatest songs to tell a story.
0 Replies
edgarblythe
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Sun 1 Apr, 2012 06:46 pm
0 Replies
Letty
2
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Tue 3 Apr, 2012 09:23 am
@edgarblythe,
I recall the rope a dope guy, edgar, All Black Superman Song was great. You know how I love Marty.
Richard David Bach
Many of you may recall his novella, Jonathan Livingston Seagull.
A mini summary:
Jonathan started out being a mischief-maker and ended almost a god to the other gulls. He saw more in life than any had ever seen before. He knew there was meaning and he found that. This book was also about a journey Jon takes in finding himself. He believes in freedom and that all the gulls are free. He sees each individually as equals and not better than the other.
I remember Jonathan Livingston Seagull was a sensation. I thought it was written by somebody like Harry Nilsson. I never heard Neil Diamond's song before, but I like Neil.
I have been looking for this version of the song ever since I first discovered youtube.
0 Replies
plainoldme
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Sat 14 Apr, 2012 10:43 pm
In some ways, this thread offered some inspiration. I've been in a great writing group for a little more than a year. Everything inspires me. A long time ago, popular WUMB disc jockey Dave Palmatier asked what was wrong with the girl in some versions of James Harris or the Demon Lover that she doesn't see her lover's cloven hoof?
Well, I have to ask: since the ship went down and the girl and her lover drowned, how does the narrator know the lover had a cloven hoof? Who is the narrator? Can the devil seduce away a happy wife?
Anyway, started a short story cycle based on short alternate versions of the Child Ballads.
