Irish Rover
On the Fourth of July, 1806We set sail from the sweet cohb of CorkWe were sailing away with a cargo of bricksFor the Grand City Hall in New York'Twas a wonderful craftShe was rigged fore and aftAnd oh, how the wild wind drove herShe stood several blastsShe had twenty seven mastsAnd they called her The Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo ragsWe had two million barrels of stoneWe had three million bales of old nanny-goats' tailsWe had four million barrels of bonesWe had five million hogsAnd six million dogsSeven million barrels of porterWe had eight million sides of old blind horses hidesIn the hold of the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGeeFrom the banks of the LeeThere was Hogan from County TyroneThere was Johnny McGurkWho was scared stiff of workAnd a man from Westmeath called MaloneThere was Slugger O'TooleWho was drunk as a ruleAnd Fighting Bill Tracy from DoverAnd your man, Mick McCannFrom the banks of the BannWas the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo ragsWe had two million barrels of stoneWe had three million bales of old nanny-goats' tailsWe had four million barrels of bonesWe had five million hogsAnd six million dogsSeven million barrels of porterWe had eight million sides of old blind horses hidesIn the hold of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven yearsWhen the measles broke outAnd the ship lost its way in the fogAnd that whale of a crewWas reduced down to twoJust myself and the Captain's old dogThen the ship struck a rockOh what a shockThe bulkhead was turned right overTurned nine times aroundAnd the poor old dog was drownedI'm the last of The Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo ragsWe had two million barrels of stoneWe had three million bales of old nanny-goats' tailsWe had four million barrels of bonesWe had five million hogsAnd six million dogsSeven million barrels of porterWe had eight million sides of old blind horses hidesIn the hold of the Irish Rover