The legend lives on from the Chippewa on downOf the big lake they called Gitche GumeeThe lake, it is said, never gives up her deadWhen the skies of November turn gloomyWith a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons moreThan the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed emptyThat good ship and true was a bone to be chewedWhen the gales of November came early
RIP Gordon Lightfoot
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