歌词
In the year of our Lord eighteen-hundred-and-six
We sailed from the cold bay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the grand city hall of New York
We'd an elegant craft, it was rigged fore and aft
And how the trade winds blow o'er her
She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts
And they called her the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was John D. McGirk who was scared stiff of work
And the chap from Westmeath named Malone
We had Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And the man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of bone
We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails
We had four million barrels of stone
We had five million hogs
And six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million sides of old blind horses' hides
In the hold of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost her way in a fog
And the whale of a crew was reduced down to two
'Twas meself and the captain's old dog
Well, the ship struck a rock, oh Lord, what a shock
And nearly tumbled over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover
