Fiddlers Green

September 17th, for a girl I know it's mothers 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 fiddlersgreen,

His tiny knotted heart, well I guess it never worked too good,

A timber tore apart, and the water gorged the wood,

You can hear her whispered prayer, for men at mass that alwayslend,

The same wind that moves her hair, moves a boy through fiddlersgreen,

Nothing's changed anyway, ah nothing's changed anyway, ahanytime, today,

He doesn't know a soul, and there's nowhere that he's reallybeen,

But he won't travel on alone, no not in fiddlers green,

Balloons all filled with rain, as children's eyes turn sleepymean,

And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain, for a boy in fiddlersgreen.