In the year of our Lord, 1806, We set sail from the coal cave port. We were sailing away with the cargo bricks For the Grand City Hall in New York.With an elegant craft, she was rigged, full and daft, And how the trade winds drove her. She had twenty-three masts, and she stood several blasts, And they called her the Irish Rover.There was Darnley McGee, from the banks of the Lee, There was Hogan from County Tyrone, There was Johnny Becker, who was scared stiff of work, And a chap from Westmead named Malone.They had Slobber O'Toole, who was drunk as a roo, And fired in Beltresi from Dover, And a man, Mick McCann, from the banks of the Pan, Was the skipper of the Irish Rover.We had one million bags of the best LIGO rags, We had two million barrels of bone, We had three million bales of our nanny goat's 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 our blind horse's hide, In the hold of the Irish Rover.We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out, And the ship lost our way in a fog, And the whale of the crew was reduced down to two, Was 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.© BF-WATCH TV 2021