On the 4th of July, eighteen hundred and six

We set sail from the cold bay 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, we had six million dogs

And seven million Celtic supporters

We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails

In the hold of 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 (great 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