On the fourth of July, 1 806.
We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork,
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the ground city hall of New York.
It was wonderful craft,
She was rigged fore and aft'
And oh' how the wild wind drove over,
She stood several blasts,
She had twenty-seven masts
And they called her "The Irish Rover"
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags,
We had two million barrels of stone.
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, and 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 a set,
He was tootlin' with skill, for each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk, he was cook of the walk,
And he rolled dames under and over,
They all knew at the glance, when he took up his stance,
That he sailed in "The Irish Rover"
Three was Barney McGee, from the Banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone.
There was Johny McGurke, who was scared stiff of work,
And the man from Westmeath called Mallone,
There was slugger O'Toole, who was drunk as a rule,
and fighting Bill Treacy from Dower,
And Your man Mick McKanne, from the Banks of the Bann,
Was the skipper on "The Irish Rover."
We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog.
And that whole of the crew
Was reduced down the two,
Just myself 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 old dog was drowned,
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