The 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 bricks
For the grand city hall of New York
'Twas an elegant craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh how the trade winds drove her
She could stand several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts
And they called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bales of oul' nanny goats tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover
Break
There was old Micky Coote who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootling with a skill for each quadrill
Though the dancers were fluttered and fet
With his smart witty talk he was cock of the walk
And he rolled them under and over
When he took up with his stance they knew at a glance
That he sailed on the Irish Rover
There was Barney Magee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from CO. Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a man from West Meath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
Break
We had sailed several days when the measles broke out
And our ship lost its way in the fog
Then the whale of a crew was reduced down to two
Just myself and the captains old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, Lord what a shock
And we were turned right over
Turned nine times around, sure the poor dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover
Break
Slow down last line
