• Beaver [he/him]@hexbear.net
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      1 year ago

      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