Gordon Lightfoot - The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald
Chords By: RT237


[Intro]

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[Verse 1]

             
The legend liv

              
es on from the

 
 Chippewa on d

own
             
Of the big lak

             
e they called 

              
"Gitche Gumee"
              
The lake, it i

              
s said, never 


gives up her d

ead
             
When the skies

             
 of November t

          
urn gloomy
             
With a load of

              
 iron ore twen

       
ty-six thousan

d tons more
             
Than the Edmun

             
d Fitzgerald w

           
eighed empty
             
That good ship

              
 and crew was 

  
a bone to be c

hewed
             
When the "Gale

             
s of November"

          
 came early


[Verse 2]

             
The ship was t

              
he pride of th

   
e American sid

e
             
Coming back fr

             
om some mill i

     
n Wisconsin
             
As the big fre

              
ighters go, it

     
 was bigger th

an most
             
With a crew an

             
d good captain

      
 well seasoned
             
Concluding som

              
e terms with a

 
 couple of ste

el firms
             
When they left

             
 fully loaded 

    
for Cleveland
             
And later that

              
 night when th

  
e ship's bell 

rang
             
Could it be th

             
e north wind t

           
hey'd been fee


lin'?


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[Verse 3]

             
The wind in th

              
e wires made a

 
 tattle-tale s

ound
             
And a wave bro

           
ke over the ra

          
iling
             
And every man 

             
knew, as the c


aptain did too
             
T'was the witc

             
h of November 

           
come stealin'
             
The dawn came 

             
late and the b


reakfast had t

o wait
             
When the Gales

             
 of November c

    
ame slashin'
             
When afternoon

             
 came it was f


reezin' rain
             
In the face of

            
 a hurricane w


est wind


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[Verse 4]

             
When suppertim

              
e came, the ol

  
d cook came on

 deck
             
Sayin’, "Fella

             
s, it's too ro

         
ugh to feed ya

    
."
             
At seven P.M. 

       
a main hatchwa

y caved in'
             
He said "Fella

             
s, it's been g

            
ood t'know ya"
              
The captain wi

              
red in he had 


water comin' i

n
             
And the good s

             
hip and crew w

      
as in peril
             
And later that

              
 night when 'i

  
s lights went 

outta sight
             
Came the wreck

             
 of the Edmund

     
 Fitzgerald


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[Verse 5]

              
Does anyone kn

             
ow where the l


ove of God goe

s
             
When the waves

             
 turn the minu

            
tes to hours?
             
The searchers 

              
all say they'd

      
 have made Whi

tefish Bay
             
If they'd put 

             
fifteen more m

         
iles behind he

   
r
             
They might hav

              
e split up or 

     
they might hav

e capsized;
             
They may have 

             
broke deep and

      
 took water
             
And all that r

              
emains is the 


faces and the 

names
             
Of the wives a

             
nd the sons an

      
d the daughter

s


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[Verse 6]

              
Lake Huron rol

      
ls, Superior s

ings
             
In the rooms o

             
f her ice-wate

  
r mansion
             
Old Michigan s

             
teams like a y


oung man's dre

ams;
             
The islands an

             
d bays are for

       
 sportsmen
             
And farther be

           
low Lake Ontar

io
             
Takes in what 

             
Lake Erie can 


send her
             
And the iron b

              
oats go as the

 
 mariners all 

know
             
with the Gales

             
 of November r

 
emembered


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[Verse 7]

             
In a musty old

            
 hall in Detro

it they prayed
             
In the "Mariti

             
me Sailors' Ca

     
thedral."
             
The church bel

              
l chimed till 

        
it rang twenty

-nine times
             
For each man o

             
n the Edmund F

       
itzgerald
             
The legend liv

              
es on from the

 
 Chippewa on d

own
             
Of the big lak

             
e they call "G

            
itche Gumee"
             
"Superior", th

              
ey said, "neve

  
r gives up her

 dead
             
When the 'Gale

             
s of November'

      
 come early!"


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