The Irish Rover

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 of New York

We had an elegant craft

She was rigged fore and aft

And oh, how the wild winds drove her

She had twenty seven masts

And withstood several blasts

And they called her 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 chap from Westmeath called 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 of the Irish Rover



We had five million bags of the best Sligo rags

We had six million barrels of stones

We had seven million bales of old nanny goats tails

We had eight million barrels of bones

We had nine million hogs

ten million dogs

eleven million barrels of porter

We had twelve 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 the ship lost its way in a fog

And that whole of a crew

Was reduced down to two

Just myself and the Captain's old dog

Well the ship struck a rock

Oh Lord! what a shock

The boat she turned right over

She turned nine times around

And the poor old dog was drowned

I'm the last of The Irish Rover