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Fiddler's Green, by The Tragically Hip

September Seventeen

For a girl I know, it's Mother's Day

Her son has gone alee

And that's where he will stay

Wind on the weathervane

Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean

As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain

For a boy in Fiddler's Green

His tiny knotted heart

Well I guess it never worked to good

The timber tore apart

And the water gorged the wood

You can hear the whispered prayer

For men at masts that always lean

That the same wind that moves her hair

Moves her boy through Fiddler's Green

He doesn't know a soul

And there's nowhere that he's really been

But he won't travel long alone

No, not in Fiddler's Green

Balloons all filled with rain

As children's eyes turn sleepy-mean

And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain

For a boy in Fiddler's Green

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