September seventeen
For a girl I know its Mothers Day
Her son has gone alee
And thats where he will stay
Wind on the weathervane
Tearing blue eyes sailor-mean
As Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddlers Green
His tiny knotted heart
Well, I guess it never worked too good
The timber tore apart
And the water gorged the wood
You can hear her whispered prayer
For men at masts that always lean
That same wind that moves her hair
Moves a boy through Fiddlers Green
Ohhhh nothing changed anyway
Ahh nothings changed anyway
Ahh anytime the day
He doesnt know a soul
And theres nowhere that hes really been
But he wont travel long alone
No, not in Fiddlers Green
Balloons all filled with rain
As childrens eyes turn sleepy-mean
And Falstaff sings a sorrowful refrain
For a boy in Fiddlers Green
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