In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the fair Quay of Cork. We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall of New York. She 'as an elegant craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And lo, how the wild winds drove her. She had twenty-seven masts and withstood several blasts And we called her the Irish Rover. There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, There was Hogan from County Tyrone. Oh, there was Charlie McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a chap from West Meade called Malone. There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover. And your man Finn Megan from the banks of the Ban, And was skipper of the Irish Rover. We had one million bales of old billy goats' tails, We had two million buckets of stones. We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, We had four million packets of bones. We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs, And seven million barrels of porter. We had eight million bags of the best Sligo rags 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 whole of the crew was reduced unto two, 'Twas myself and the captain's old dog. Then the ship struck a rock-O what a shock And then the ship, she turned right over, Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned – I'm the last of the Irish Rover.
Pogues – The Irish Rover Lyrics