Irish Rover

Irish Rover - O'Farrell Family Band

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 fore 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

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

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 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 I'm the last of The Irish Rover

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 I'm the last of The Irish Rover