Irish Rover
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 grad city hall in New York
'T was a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her
She got several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts
And they called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of rum
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, 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 playes hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for his set
He would tootle with skill for each sparkling quadrille
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk
As he rolled the dames under and over
And they knew at a glance when he took up his stance
They sailed in the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighthing 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 it's way in a fog
And that 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 bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover
O Errante Irlandês
Em 4 de maio de 1806
Zarpamos da doce baía de Cork
Estávamos navegando com uma carga de tijolos
Para a grande prefeitura de Nova Iorque
Era uma nave maravilhosa, guiada na frente e atrás
E ó, como os ventos a dirigiam
Ela tinha várias cornetas e 27 mastros
E chamavam-na de Errante Irlandês
Tínhamos 1 milhão de fardos das melhores roupas de Sligo
Tínhamos 2 milhões de barris de rum
Tínhamos 3 milhões de pedaços de couro de velhos cavalos
Tínhamos 4 milhões de barris de ossos
Tínhamos 5 milhões de porcos, 6 milhões de cães
7 milhões de barris de cerveja Porter
Tínhamos 8 milhões de baias de caudas de velhas cabras
No porão do Errante Irlandês
Tinha o horrível Mickey Coote que tocava muito sua flauta
Quando as moças faziam fila para seu repertório
Ele soprava com destreza para cada quadrilha cintilante
Apesar dos dançarinos estarem bêbados e desafiados
Com sua conversa esperta e escassa, ele era o rei do lugar
Enquanto rebolava com as damas para cima e para baixo
E eles sabiam com um olhar, quando ele se colocava em postura
Que navegavam no Errante Irlandês
Tinha o Barney McGee, das margens do Lee
Tinha o Hogan, do Condado de Tyrone
Tinha o Jimmy McGurk, cheio de cicatrizes do trabalho
E um homem de Westmeath chamado Malone
Tinha Slugger O'Toole que estava bêbado por via de regra
E brigando com Bill Tracey, de Dover
E seu cara, Mick McCann, das margens do Bann
Era o capitão do Errante Irlandês
Tínhamos navegado por 7 anos quando houve um surto de sarampo
E o navio se perdeu no nevoeiro
E aquela equipe inteira se reduziu a dois
Só eu e o cachorro velho do capitão
E então, o navio bateu em uma rocha, ó Deus, que choque!
E o tabique virou de cabeça para baixo
Virou 9 vezes e o pobre cachorro se afogou
Eu sou o último do Errante Irlandês