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In the year of our Lord eighteen hundred and six
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We set sail from the Cobh quay of Cork
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We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
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For the grand city hall in New York
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Twas an elegant craft, she was rigged fore and aft
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And how the trade winds drove her
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She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts
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And they called her the Irish Ro-ver
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We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
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We had two million barrels of stones
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We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
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We had four million barrels of bone
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We had five million hogs, six million dogs
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Seven million barrels of porter
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We had eight million bales of old nanny goats tails
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In the hold of the Irish Ro-ver
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There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
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There was Hogan from County Tyrone
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There was Johnny McGuirk who was scared stiff of work
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And a chap from Westmeath named Malone
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There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
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And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
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And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann
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Was the skipper of the Irish Ro-ver
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We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
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And our ship lost it's way in the fog
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Then the whole of the crew was reduced down to two
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Just myself and the captain's old dog
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The ship struck a rock, oh Lord what a shock
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And nearly tumbled over
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It turned nine times around and the poor dog was drowned
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