Irish Rover

The Dubliners

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    On the Fourth of July 1806 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 for and aft and oh, how the wild wind drove her
    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 cock of the walk and he rolled the dames under and over
    They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance that he sailed in the Irish Rover

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    There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone
    There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
    There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
    And your man, Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann was the skipper on the Irish Rover

    For a sailor it`s a bother of life, it`s so lonesome by night and by day
    When he longs for the shore and a charming young whore who will melt all his troubles away
    All the noise and the rout swillin` poitin and stout, for him soon is done and over
    Of the love of a maid he is never afraid, that ould salt from the Irish rover

    We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost it's way in the fog
    And that whale of a 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 old dog was drowned, I`m the last of the Irish Rover

    Song details

    Composition: Joseph Crofts

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