Words and Music, The Irish Rover

This is such a rouser that I will print the lyrics. There's a traditional audience participation thing with this song. Don't be surprised if you find the lyrics in parenthesis shouted back at'cha' it's all in good fun. Plus, you can chew them out the first time they miss their cues. I have been known to upbraid audiences that don't get into this stuff by saying

Oh, I forgot, we're in ----------. Everybody in -------- is too cool to do silly stuff like sing along. They're going to carve it on their tombstones, they never had any fun in ------------, but Lord, they were Cool.

Without any further ado. Since you have the Clancy's version of the melody immediately below I won't be botherin' to post that link.


In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the fair Cobh of Cork. (bragh Cork!)
We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks
For the fine city hall of New York.

In a very fine craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She had twenty-three 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. (Bold Tyrone!)
And a chap called McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from West Meade called Mellone.

There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Casey from Dover.
There was Dooley from Claire who was strong as a bear
And was skipper of the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of old billy goats' tails,
We had two million buckets of stones. (Big 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. (Great Fog!)
And the whole of the crew was reduced unto two,
'Twas me self and the captain's old dog.

Then the ship struck a rock with a terrible shock
And then she heeled right over,
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned--
I'm the last of the Irish Rover.


Have fun with this one. The Pogues sure did.

big brass ones