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% W:1 W:On the fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six W:We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork W:We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks W:For the Grand City Hall in New York W:'Twas a wonderful craft she was rigged fore and aft W:And oh, how the wild wind drove her W:She stood several blasts she had twenty-seven masts W:And they called her The Irish Rover W: W:2 W:We had one million bags of the best Sligo Rags W:wW had two million barrels of stone W:We had three million sides of old blind horses hides W:We had four million barrels of bones W:We had five million hogs, Six million dogs W:Seven million barrels of porter W:We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails W:In the hold of The Irish Rover W: W:3 W:There was ol' Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute W:When the ladies lined up for a set W:He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille W:Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet W:With his smart witty talk he was cock of the walk W:And he rolled the dames under and over W:They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance W:That he sailed in The Irish Rover W: W:4 W:There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee W:There was Hogan from County Tyrone W:There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work W:And a man from Westmeath called Malone W:There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule W:And fighting Bill Treacy from Dover W:And your man, Mick MacCann from the banks of the Bann W:Was the skipper on The Irish Rover W: W:5 W:For the sailor it's always a bother in life W:It's so lonesome by night and by day W:That he longs for the shore and a charming young whore W:Who will melt all his troubles away W:Oh, the noise and the rout swillin' poitin and stout W:For him soon the torment's over W:Of the love of a maid, he is never afraid W:That old salt from The Irish Rover W: W:6 W:We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out W:And the ship lost its way in the fog W:And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two W:Just myself and the Captain's old dog W:Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord, what a shock W:The bulkhead was turned right over W:Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned W:That's the last of The Irish Rover % % % % % % % % %]