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The Irish Rover
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In the year of our Lord eighteen-hundred and six We set sail from the cold sea of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall of New York We'd an elegant craft, we was rigged fore and aft And, oh, how the trade winds drove her She had twenty-seven 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 Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a chap from West Meath called Malone Oh, there was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk, as a rule And fighting Bill Casey from Dover And your man, Nick McCann from the banks of the Bann Was the skipper of The Irish Rover



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