On the 4th of July, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweat cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
She was a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her
She had several blasts, she had 27 masts
And we called her the Irish Rover

We had one million bags 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, six million dogs
And seven million barrels or porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover

There was old Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
Ehen the ladies lined up for a set
he was tootin' with skill
For each sparking quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk
He was c___ of the walk
He rolled the d___es under and over
They all knew at a glance
When he took up his stance
That he sailed on the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Charlie McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeathe called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And Fightin' Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

Bridge:
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog
And the whale of a crew was reduced down to two
Just myself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock
The bulkhead turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned
And I'm the last of the Irish Rover

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