Rapalje
Rapalje - The Irish Rover lyrics
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In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the fair Cobh of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York 'T Was a wonderfull craft she was rigged for and aft And oh how the wild winds drove her She had twenty seven masts and withstood several blasts And we called her the Irish Rover There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lea There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a man from West Meade called Mallone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Ban Was the skipper of the Irish Rover There was old Mickey Coot who played hard on his flute And the ladies went down in a dance There was Darren Kilgour and a charming French whore Sitting down all the night on his lap There was Mason McGreig who was drunk as a brick Oh God he was seldom sober He went down in the bar and he puked in a jar Oh God what a mess he left over We had one million bales of old billy goats' tails We had two million barrels of stones We had three million sides of old blind horses hides We had four million packets of bones We had five million hogs and 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 it's way in the fog And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two 'T Was myself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock The boat it had turned right over Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was Drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover