The Irish Rover
On the 4th of July, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the cold bay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall in New York
She was a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her
She had several blasts, she had 27 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 bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs
And seven million Celtic supporters
We had eight million bails 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 Charlie McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeathe called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And Fightin' Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
Bridge:
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog (great fog!)
And the 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 turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned
And I'm the last of the Irish Rover
O Irlandês Rover
No dia 4 de julho, mil oitocentos e seis
Zarpamos da fria baía de Cork
Estávamos navegando com uma carga de tijolos
Para a grande câmara municipal em Nova York
Era uma embarcação maravilhosa, estava armada de proa a popa
E oh, como os ventos fortes a empurravam
Ela tinha várias velas, tinha 27 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, tínhamos seis milhões de cães
E sete milhões de torcedores celtas
Tínhamos oito milhões de fardos de caudas de velhas cabras
No porão do Irlandês Rover
Tinha Barney McGee das margens do Lee
Tinha Hogan do Condado de Tyrone
Tinha Charlie McGurk que tinha medo de trabalhar
E um cara de Westmeath chamado Malone
Tinha Slugger O'Toole que estava sempre bêbado
E Fightin' Bill Tracy de Dover
E o seu amigo Mick McCann
Das margens do Bann
Era o capitão do Irlandês Rover
Ponte:
Navegamos por sete anos quando a sarampo estourou
E o navio se perdeu na neblina (grande neblina!)
E a tripulação, que era enorme, ficou reduzida a dois
Só eu e o velho cachorro do capitão
Então o navio bateu em uma rocha, oh Senhor, que choque
O compartimento virou de ponta-cabeça
Virou nove vezes, e o pobre velho cachorro se afogou
E eu sou o último do Irlandês Rover