The IRISH ROVER

Some of the tunes aren't really serious

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In the year of our lord, eighteen hundred and six
we set sail from the cold cay of Cork
and we were sailin away with a cargo of bricks
for the grand city hall in New York

We had 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!

Well there was Barney Magee from the banks of the Lee
there was Hogan from county Tyrone
and there was Johny McGurk, who was scared stiff of work,
and a chap from West Meade 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 Grand,
was the skipper on the Irish Rover

Well, we had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of bone
We had three million barrels of old bald eagles tails
We had four million barrels of stone!
We had five million hogs and six million dogs!
and seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million sides of old blind horses hides
in the hold of the Irish Rover

Well, we had sailed seven years, when the measles broke out
and the ship lost her way in the fog
And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two
'Twas meself and the captains old dog.
Then the ship struck a rock, a large bloody shock,
turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rovers!

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