On the fourth of July
eighteen hundred and six
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 an elegant craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh how the wild wind drove her
She had twenty-three masts
and she stood several blasts
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 bone
We had five million hogs, six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bales
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 Johnny McGurk
who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole
who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann
from the Banks of the Bann
was the skipper of the Irish Rover.
We had sailed seven years
when the measles broke out
And our ship lost it's way in the fog
Then the whole of the crew
was reduced down to two
Just myself and the captain's old dog
The ship struck a rock, Lord what a shock
The boat it flipped right over
Turned nine times around
and the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover
