The 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 grand city hall in New York
´Twas an elegant craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And how the wild wind drove her
She could stand a great blast in her 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 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 McGuirk 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
There was Dolan from Clare, just as strong as a bear
All aboard on 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
O Irlandês Rover
No quatro de julho de mil oitocentos e seis
Zarpamos da doce enseada de Cork
Estávamos navegando com uma carga de tijolos
Para a grande câmara municipal em Nova York
Era uma embarcação elegante, com velas na proa e na popa
E como o vento forte a empurrava
Ela aguentava um grande vendaval com seus vinte e sete mastros
E a chamávamos de Irlandês Rover
Tínhamos um milhão de sacos dos melhores trapos de Sligo
Tínhamos dois milhões de barris de pedras
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 fardos de caudas de velhas cabras
No porão do Irlandês Rover
Havia Barney McGee das margens do Lee
Havia Hogan do Condado de Tyrone
Havia Johnny McGuirk que tinha medo de trabalhar
E um cara de Westmeath chamado Malone
Havia Slugger O'Toole que estava sempre bêbado
E o briguento Bill Tracy de Dover
Havia Dolan de Clare, tão forte quanto um urso
Todos a bordo do Irlandês Rover
Navegamos por sete anos quando a sarampo estourou
E nosso navio se perdeu na neblina
Então toda a tripulação foi reduzida a dois
Só eu e o velho cachorro do capitão
O navio bateu em uma rocha, Senhor, que choque
A embarcação virou de ponta-cabeça
Rodou nove vezes e o pobre velho cachorro se afogou
Sou o último do Irlandês Rover