AWA

The Irish Rover

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  • 2012.06.19
  • 2:12
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In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six, We set sail from the Coal Quay of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand City Hall in New York We'd an elegant craft, it was rigged 'fore and aft And how the trade winds drove her She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts And they called her the Irish Rover There was Barney Magee from the banks of the Lee There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a chap from Westmeath named Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover And your man Mick McCann, from the banks of the Bann Was the skipper on the Irish Rover We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags We had two million barrells of bone We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails We had four million barrells of stone We had five million hogs and six million dogs And seven million barrells of porter We had eight million sides of old blind horses' hides In the hold of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And our ship lost her way in a fog And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two 'Twas myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, oh, Lord what a shock And nearly tumbled over Turned nine times around then the poor old dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover

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