The Irish Rover
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
T'was 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 bone
We had five million hogs, six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny gold tails
In the hold of the Irish Rover
There was old Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute
when the ladies lined up for a set
he was tootin' with skill For each sparking quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk he was cock of the walk
He rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance
That he sailed on 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 your man from the West Meath called Malone
The 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 Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost its 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 the last of the Irish Rover
O Irlandês Rover
No quatro de julho de 1806
Zarpamos da doce enseada de Cork
Estávamos navegando com uma carga de tijolos
Para a grande câmara municipal em Nova York
Era uma embarcação maravilhosa, com velas na proa e na popa
E como o vento forte a empurrava
Ela suportou várias rajadas, tinha vinte e sete mastros
E a chamavam de Irlandês Rover
Tínhamos um milhão de sacos dos melhores trapos de Sligo
Tínhamos dois milhões de barris de pedra
Tínhamos três milhões de peles de velhos cavalos cegos
Tínhamos quatro milhões de barris de ossos
Tínhamos cinco milhões de porcos, seis milhões de cães
Sete milhões de barris de cerveja
Tínhamos oito milhões de caudas de cabras velhas
No porão do Irlandês Rover
Havia o velho Mickey Coote que tocava forte sua flauta
Quando as damas se alinhavam para dançar
Ele tocava com habilidade para cada quadrilha animada
Embora os dançarinos estivessem bêbados e tontos
Com seu papo esperto, ele era o rei do pedaço
Ele fazia as damas rodopiarem
Todos sabiam de relance quando ele tomava sua posição
Que ele navegava no Irlandês Rover
Havia Barney McGee das margens do Lee
Havia Hogan do Condado de Tyrone
Havia Johnny McGurk que tinha medo de trabalhar
E o seu amigo de West Meath chamado Malone
Era o socador O'Toole que estava sempre bêbado
E o briguento Bill Tracey de Dover
E o seu amigo Mick McCann das margens do Bann
Era o capitão do Irlandês Rover
Navegamos por sete anos quando a sarampo estourou
E o navio se perdeu na neblina
E aquela tripulação enorme foi reduzida a dois
Só eu e o velho cachorro do capitão
Então o navio bateu em uma rocha, oh Senhor, que choque
O compartimento foi virado de ponta-cabeça
Virou nove vezes e o pobre velho cachorro se afogou
E foi o fim do Irlandês Rover
Composição: Jörgen Elofsson