The Irish Rover (Live)

In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and six
We sail from the cold bay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall of New York

We′d an elegant craft it was rigged fore and aft
And how the trade winds blow o'er 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 Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was John D. McGirk who was scared stiff of work
And the chap from Westmeath named Malone

We had Slugger O′Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And the man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper on the Irish rover

We had one million bales of old billy goats' tails
We had two million buckets of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million packets of bones

We had five million hogs we had six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bags of the best Sligo rags
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
And the whole of the crew was reduced unto two
'Twas myself and the captain′s old dog

Then the ship struck a rock with a terrible shock
And then she heeled right over
Turned nine times around and the poor dog was drowned
I′m the last of the Irish Rover