Gordon Lightfoot - Wreck Of The Edmond Fitzgerald

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the legend lives on from the chippewa on down
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of the big lake they called “gitche gumee”
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the lake , it is said , never gives up her dead
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when the skies of november turn gloomy
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with a load of iron ore twenty – six thousand tons more
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than the edmund fitzgerald weighed empty .
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that good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed
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when the “gales of november” came early .

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the ship was the pride of the american side

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coming back from some mill in wisconsin
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as the big freighters go , it was bigger than most
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with a crew and good captain well seasoned
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concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
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when they left fully loaded for cleveland
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and later that night when the ship’s bell rang
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could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?

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the wind in the wires made a tattle – tale sound
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and a wave broke over the railing
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and every man knew , as the captain did too ,
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t’was the witch of november come stealin’ .
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the dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
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when the gales of november came slashin’ .
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when afternoon came it was freezin’ rain
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in the face of a hurricane west wind .

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when suppertime came , the old cook came on deck
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sayin . “fellas , it’s too rough to feed ya . ”
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at seven p . m . a main hatchway caved in’ ,
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he said “fellas , it’s been good t’know ya”
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the captain wired in he had water comin’ in
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and the good ship and crew was in peril .
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and later that night when ’is lights went outta sight
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came the wreck of the edmund fitzgerald .

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does any one know where the love of god goes
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when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
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the searches all say they’d have made whitefish bay
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if they’d put fifteen more miles behind her .
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they might have split up or they might have capsized;
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they may have broke deep and took water .
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and all that remains is the faces and the names
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of the wives and the sons and the daughters .

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lake huron rolls , superior sings
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in the rooms of her ice – water mansion .
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old michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;
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the islands and bays are for sportsmen .
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and farther below lake ontario
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takes in what lake erie can send her ,
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and the iron boats go as the mariners all know
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with the gales of november remembered .

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in a musty old hall in detroit they prayed ,
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in the “maritime sailors’ cathedral . ”
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the church bell chimed till it rang twenty – nine times
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for each man on the edmund fitzgerald .
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the legend lives on from the chippewa on down
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of the big lake they call “gitche gumee” .
Em
“superior” , they said , “never gives up her dead
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when the ’gales of november’ come early!