Irish Rover (Live)

In the year of Our Lord eighteen-hundred and six

We set sail from the port quay of Cork

We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks

For the grand City Hall in New York

We'd an elegant craft, she 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

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Leith

There was Hogan from county Tyrone

There was Johnny McGirk, who was scared stiff of work

And a chap from Westmeath named Malone

We had 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 on the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags

We had two million barrels of bone

We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails

We had four million barrels of stone

We had five million hogs

And six million dogs

Seven million barrels of porter

We had eight 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 her way in a fog (great fog)

And the whale of a crew was reduced down to two

Twas meself and the captain's old dog (big dog)

Well, the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock

And nearly tumbled over

Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned

I'm the last of the Irish Rover