The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

{title: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald}
{artist: Gordon Lightfoot}
{key: D}
{time: 6/8}

[D]The legend lives on from the [Am]Chippewa on down 
Of the [C]big lake they [G]called Gitche [D]Gumee
[D]The lake, it is said, never [Am]gives up her dead
When the [C]skies of No-[G]-vember turn [D]gloomy
[D]With a load of iron ore twenty-[Am]six thousand tons more
Than the [C]Edmund Fitz-[G]-gerald weighed [D]empty
[D]That good ship and true was a [Am]bone to be chewed
When the [C]Gales of No-[G]-vember came [D]early

[D]The ship was the pride of the [Am]American side
Coming [C]back from some [G]mill in Wis-[D]consin
[D]As the big freighters go, it was [Am]bigger than most
With a [C]crew and good [G]captain well [D]seasoned
[D]Concluding some terms with a [Am]couple of steel firms
When they [C]left fully [G]loaded for [D]Cleveland
[D]And later that night when the [Am]ship's bell rang
Could it [C]be the north [G]wind they'd been [D]feelin'

[D]The wind in the wires made a [Am]tattle-tale sound
And a [C]wave broke [G]over the [D]railing
[D]And ev'ry man knew, as the [Am]captain did too
'Twas the [C]witch of No-[G]-vember come [D]stealin'
[D]The dawn came late and the [Am]breakfast had to wait
When the [C]Gales of No-[G]-vember came [D]slashin'
[D]When afternoon came it was [Am]freezin' rain
In the [C]face of a [G]hurricane west [D]wind

[D]When suppertime came the old [Am]cook came on deck
Sayin' [C]fellas, it's [G]too rough t'feed [D]ya
[D]At seven P.M. a main [Am]hatchway caved in; he said
[C]Fellas, it's [G]bin good t'know [D]ya
[D]The captain wired in he had [Am]water comin' in
And the [C]good ship and [G]crew was in [D]peril
[D]And later that night when his [Am]lights went outta sight
Came the [C]wreck of the [G]Edmund Fitz-[D]gerald

[D]Does anyone know where the [Am]love of God goes
When the [C]waves turn the [G]minutes to [D]hours
[D]The searchers all say they'd have [Am]made Whitefish Bay
If they'd [C]put fifteen [G]more miles be-[D]hind 'er
[D]They might have split up or they [Am]might have capsized
They may have [C]broke deep and [G]took wa-[D]ter
[D]And all that remains is the [Am]faces and the names
Of the [C]wives and the [G]sons and the [D]daughters

[D]Lake Huron rolls, Superior [Am]sings
In the [C]rooms of her [G]ice-water [D]mansion
[D]Old Michigan steams like a [Am]young man's dreams
The [C]islands and [G]bays are for [D]sportsmen
[D]And farther below Lake On-[Am]tario
Takes in [C]what Lake [G]Erie can [D]send her
[D]And the iron boats go as the [Am]mariners all know
With the [C]Gales of No-[G]-vember re-[D]membered

[D]In a rustic old hall in De-[Am]troit they prayed
In the [C]Maritime [G]Sailors' Ca-[D]thedral
[D]The church bell chimed 'til it [Am]rang twenty-nine times
For each [C]man on the [G]Edmund Fitz-[D]gerald
[D]The legend lives on from the [Am]Chippewa on down
Of the [C]big lake they [G]call Gitche [D]Gumee
[D]Superior, they said, never [Am]gives up her dead
When the [C]gales of No-[G]-vember come [D]early