The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald 歌词

歌曲	The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald
歌手	Gordon Lightfoot
专辑	The Complete Greatest Hits
下载	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : LIGHTFOOT, G.
	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
	WisconsinAs the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
	With a crew and good captain well-seasoned
	Concluding some terms with a couple steel firms
	When they left fully loaded for
	ClevelandAnd 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 the tattle-tale sound
	And the wave broke over the railing
	And every man knew, as the captain did too
	T'was 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 supper time came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
	Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya
	At 7 P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
	Fellas, it's been good to 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 his lights went out of sight
	Came the wreck of the
	Edmund Fitzgerald
	Does any one know where the love of
	God goesWhen the waves turn the minutes to hours?
	The searchers all say they'd have made
	Whitefish
	BayIf they'd put fifteen more miles behind her
	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

	zuo ci : LIGHTFOOT, G.
	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, twentysix 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
	WisconsinAs the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
	With a crew and good captain wellseasoned
	Concluding some terms with a couple steel firms
	When they left fully loaded for
	ClevelandAnd 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 the tattletale sound
	And the wave broke over the railing
	And every man knew, as the captain did too
	T' was 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 supper time came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
	Fellas, it' s too rough to feed ya
	At 7 P. M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
	Fellas, it' s been good to 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 his lights went out of sight
	Came the wreck of the
	Edmund Fitzgerald
	Does any one know where the love of
	God goesWhen the waves turn the minutes to hours?
	The searchers all say they' d have made
	Whitefish
	BayIf they' d put fifteen more miles behind her
	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 icewater 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 twentynine 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

	zuò cí : LIGHTFOOT, G.
	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, twentysix 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
	WisconsinAs the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
	With a crew and good captain wellseasoned
	Concluding some terms with a couple steel firms
	When they left fully loaded for
	ClevelandAnd 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 the tattletale sound
	And the wave broke over the railing
	And every man knew, as the captain did too
	T' was 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 supper time came, the old cook came on deck sayin'
	Fellas, it' s too rough to feed ya
	At 7 P. M. a main hatchway caved in, he said
	Fellas, it' s been good to 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 his lights went out of sight
	Came the wreck of the
	Edmund Fitzgerald
	Does any one know where the love of
	God goesWhen the waves turn the minutes to hours?
	The searchers all say they' d have made
	Whitefish
	BayIf they' d put fifteen more miles behind her
	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 icewater 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 twentynine 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

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