On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six
We set sail for the sweet home of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand City Hall of New York
It was a wonderful craft she was rigged fore and aft
And how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts she had twenty seven masts
And we 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 bone
We had five million hogs and six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million barrels of old nanny goats tails
All on board on The Irish Rover
There was Barney MaGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from county Tyrone
There was Johnny MaGirk who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from Westmeath named Malone
There was Slugger O’Toole who was drunk as a rule
And Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
There was Dolan from Clare just as strong as a bear
All on board on The Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
Our ship lost it’s way in the fog
Then the whale of the 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 boat was turned right over
Whirled nine times around then the old dog was drowned
And the last of The Irish Rover
Whirled nine times around then the old dog was drowned
I’m the last of The Irish Rover
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