The Irish Rover

In the year of our Lord 1806

We set sail from the port of Cork

We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks

For that grand city hall in New York

We'd an elegant craft, we were rigged fore and aft

And how the trade winds drove her

She'd twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts

And we called her the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee

There was Hogan from County Tyrone

There was young Mick McKirk 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 young Dick McGann from the banks of the Bann

Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags

We had two million barrels of stones

We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails

We had four million barrels of bones

Five million hogs, 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 sailed seven years 'til the measles broke out

And the ship lost her way in the fog

Then the whole of the crew was reduced down to two

Was myself and the captain's old dog

Then the ship struck a rock, oh what a shock

And nearly tumbled over

She turned nine times around

And that poor old dog was drowned

Now I'm the last of the Irish Rover