In the year of our Lord
Eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet Cobh of Cork
We were sailing away
With a cargo of bricks
For the grand City Hall of New York
Was a wonderful craft
She was rigged fore and aft
And Lord how the wild winds drove her
She stood ever the blast
She had twenty-seven masts
And we 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 the chap from westmeath named Mellone
There was Slugger O'Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Trasy from Dover
There was Dooley from Clare
Just as strong as a bear
And on bord of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And our ship lost its way in the fog
And the way of the crew
Was reduced down to two
Meself and the captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock
A lot was the shock
The boead was killed right over
For it'll nine times around
The poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rovers
