(Traditional)
|
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 fore-and-aft
|
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
|
She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts
|
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 hides,
|
We had four million barrels of bones.
|
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
|
Seven million barrels of porter.
|
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails,
|
In the hold of the Irish Rover.
|
|
There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
|
When the ladies lined up for his set
|
He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille
|
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
|
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk
|
As he rolled the dames under and over
|
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance
|
And he sailed in the Irish Rover
|
|
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
|
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
|
There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work
|
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
|
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
|
And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover
|
And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
|
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
|
|
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
|
And the ship lost it's way in a fog.
|
And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two,
|
Just meself and the captain's old dog.
|
Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock
|
The bulkhead was turned right over
|
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned
|
I'm the last of the Irish Rover
|
|
-----------------
|
The Irish Rover
|
| The Pogues |
