Irish Rover

In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and six,

We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork,

We were sailing away with a cargo of clay,

For the grand city hall in New York.

`Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft,

And oh how the wild wind drove her,

She`d stood several blasts, She had 27 masts,

And they called her the Irish Rover.

 

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,

We had two million barrells of stone,

We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,

We had four million barrells of bones.

We had five million hogs, Six million dogs,

Seven million barrells of Porter

We had eight million bales of old nanny goats tails,

All in the hold of the Irish Rover.

 

There was old Mickey Coote playing hard upon his flute,

While the ladies lined up for his set.

He was tootling wit skill for each sparklin` quadrille

Had the dancers at fluther`t an bet.

With his smart witty talk he was cock of the walk,

An he rolled the dames under and over,

They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance,

That he sailed on the Irish Rover.

 

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lea,

There was Hogan fromCounty Tyrone.

There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff o` work,

And a chap from Westmeath called Malone.

There was Slugger O`toole, hewas drunk as a rule,

There was Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover,

And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann,

Was the skipper of the Irish Rover.

 

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out,

And the ship lost it`s way in the fog.

Oh that whale of a crew was reduced down to two,

Just myself and the Captain`s old dog,

Then the ship struck a rock !! Oh Shit what a shock !!

The boat she was turned right over,

She turned nine times around,

And the poor old dog was drowned,

I`m the last of the Irish Rover.

Trad. Lyrics

HOME