The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald
Gordon Lightfoot

(An account of the giant ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald, which sank in Lake Superior on November 10 , 1975)

Capo 2nd Fret, 2/4 Timing

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The legend lives on    from  the   	Chippewa on down 	    of     the     	big lake they	   call  Gitche	     Gumee

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The lake it is said		never   gives up her dead      when  the     	skies	     of  November       turn    gloomy

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With a load of iron ore     	      26, 000 tons more	        than the 		Edmund       Fitzgerald   weighed   empty

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That good ship and true     was a	 bone to be chewed	   when  the     gales of         November    came     early

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The ship was the pride          of  the American side		            comin? back from some mill       in        Wisconsin

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As the big freighters go            it was bigger than most		 with a crew and good   Captain well      seasoned

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Concluding some terms   with a         couple of steel firms when they          left   fully	   loaded    for      Cleveland

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And later that night        when the      ship?s bell rang	            could it be the North      wind they?d been feelin??

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The wind in the wires    made  a         tattletale sound		 and a  wave   	     broke over 	         	  the railin?
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And every man knew	             as the Captain did too	         ?twas the Witch   of     November  come        stealin?
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The dawn came late     	and the breakfast had to wait	        when the gales     of     November   came     slashin?
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When afternoon came   it was 	freezin? rain			 in the  face  of  a          hurricane	     Westwind

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													        	   (Swirly synth)
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When suppertime came       the old    cook came on deck 	   sayin? ;	?Fellas it?s	   too rough         to feed ya?
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At seven P.M.	        		a main hatchway caved in     	   he said; 	?Fellas  it?s           bin good  to      know ya?
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The Captain wired in		he had water comin? in		and the good ship and   crew    was  in     peril
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And later that night	   when ?is       lights went out of site	        came the wreck   of the  Edmund 	  Fitzgerald

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A (Hold 2 measures)
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Does anyone know	       where the love of God goes	        when the waves   turn the minutes 	    to hours?
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The searchers all say they?d have     made Whitefish Bay             if  they?d put fifteen	   more miles  	    behind ?er

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They might have split up  or       they might have capsized	                they may have broke deep and      took water
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And all that remains		  is the faces and the names		  of the wives    and the sons     and the daughters

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Lake Huron rolls			Superior sings                	   in the rooms	    of her ice  water	       mansion
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Old Michigan steams		   like a young man?s dreams	                 the	islands      and    bays  are for    sportsmen
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And farther below	           Lake Ontario	    			   takes in     what  Lake Erie can	       send her
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And the iron boats go	             as the mariners all know     	          with the gales         of November         remembered

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A (Hold 2 measures)


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In a musty old hall		     in Detroit they prayed		  in the maritime	   sailors? 	    cathedral
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The church bell chimed       ?til it rang 29 times                           for  each    man on the     Edmund              Fitzgerald
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The legend lives on	         from the Chippewa on down		  of the big lake   they    call     Gitche     Gumee
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Superior they said		  never gives up her dead	        when the gales    of       November      come  early

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