Escrita por Gordon Lightfoot, foi gravada em dezembro de 1975 no Eastern Sound, um estúdio formado por duas casas Vitorianas no número 48 Yorkville Avenue, na época o distrito Hippie de Toronto e lançada em junho de 1976 no disco Sumemrtime dream, o décimo segundo do artista. Sairia também em compacto, com The house you ive in como Lado B, em agosto de 1976. Foi produzida por Lenny Waronker e Gordon Lightfoot. Esse estúdio seria onde também gravariam Rush, Cat Stevens, Bruce Springsteen, Jimi Hendrix, entre outros, é hoje um estacionamento. A canção foi escrita pra comemorar o afunfamento do navio SS Edmundo Fitzgerald no Lago Superior, em 10 de novembro de 1975. Lightfoot acha que essa canção é o seu trabalho mais incrível. Chegou ao número 1 no Canadá e número 2 no Billlboard Hot 100, só perdendo pra Tonight's the night, de Rod Stewart. Foi o segundo maior sucesso de Lightfoot, perdendo apenas pra Sundown. Chegou também ao número 46 na Austrália.
A letra:
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
The ship was the pride of the American
side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big
freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good
captain well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel
firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that
night when the ship's bell rang
Could it be the north wind they'd
been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a
tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every
man knew, as the captain did too
T'was the witch of November come
stealin'
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When
the gales of November came slashin'
When afternoon came it was
freezin' rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind
When suppertime came, the old cook came
on deck sayin'
"Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya"
At
seven PM, a main hatchway caved in, he said
"Fellas, it's
been good to know ya"
The captain wired in he had water
comin' in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later
that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the
Edmund Fitzgerald
Does any one know where the love of God
goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers
all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
If they'd put fifteen more
miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have
capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that
remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and
the daughters
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In
the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a
young man's dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And
farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send
her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the
gales of November remembered
In a musty old hall in Detroit they
prayed
In the maritime sailors' cathedral
The church bell
chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund
Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the
big lake they called Gitche Gumee
Superior, they said, never gives
up her dead
When the gales of November come early
A versão de Gordon Lightfoot:
A versão dos Punch Brothers:
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