On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven
And we called her the Irish Rover.
We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million
Seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats'
In the hold of the Irish Rover.
There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on
When the ladies lined up for his set
He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the
As he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his
And he sailed in the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a
And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke
And the ship lost it's way in a fog.
And that whale of the crew was reduced down to
Just meself and the captain's old dog.
Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a
The bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was
I'm the last of the Irish Rover