THE IRISH ROVERS



 Intro :   C     D     C 





 C                     F 

 On the Fourth of July, 1806

 F       C                          G 

 We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork

 C                          F 

 We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks

 F      C           G       C 

 For the Grand City Hall in New York

 C 

 'Twas a wonderful craft

 G 

 She was rigged fore and aft

 C                         G 

 And oh, how the wild wind drove her

 C 

 She stood several blasts

 F 

 She had twenty seven masts

 F        C                   G     C 

 And they called her The Irish Rover.





  C     D     C 





 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 tootin' 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.





 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, Mick MacCann

 From the banks of the Bann

 Was the skipper of the Irish Rover.





 We had sailed seven years

 When the measles broke out

 And the ship lost its way in the fog

 And that 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 was turned right over

 Turned nine times around

 And the poor old dog was drowned

 And the las of The Irish Rover.