Irish Rover
On the 4th of July 1806, we set sail form the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the Grand City Hall in New York
twas wonderful craft she was rigged for and aft and, oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts and 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 stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats tales in the hold of the Irish rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from county Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger OToole always drunk as a rule and fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Benn was the skipper of the Irish rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost its way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two, just myself and the captains old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, oh, Lord, what a shock, the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned and the last of the Irish rover
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the Grand City Hall in New York
twas wonderful craft she was rigged for and aft and, oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts and 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 stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats tales in the hold of the Irish rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from county Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger OToole always drunk as a rule and fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Benn was the skipper of the Irish rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost its way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two, just myself and the captains old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, oh, Lord, what a shock, the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned and the last of the Irish rover
Credits
Writer(s): Irish Traditional
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