Clancy & Killen - The Irish Rover (Irish traditional song cover) | Текст песни

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• Clancy & Killen
• The Irish Rover (Irish traditional song cover)

THE IRISH ROVER

On the Fourth of July eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the sweet cob of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For the Grand City Hall in New-York
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore and aft
And oh how the wild winds drove her
She stood several blasts she had twenty seven masts
And they called her The Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
We had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs six million dogs
Seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bales of old nanny's goat's tails
In the hull of the Irish Rover

There was old Mickey Coote who plaid hard on his flute
When the lady's lined up for a set
He was tootled with skill for each sparkling quadrille
Till the dancers were fluttered and bet
With his smart witty talk he was cock of the walk
And he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance
That he sailed in the Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee
There was Hogan, from County Tyrone
There was Johny McQuirk, who was scared stiff of work
And a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole, who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man Mick McCann, from the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper on the Irish Rover

For a sailor it's always a bother in life
It's so lonesome by night and by day
That he longs for the shore and a charming young whore
Who will melt all his troubles away?
All the noise and the rout swilled poitín and stout
For him soon it done and over
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid
That old son from the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And our ship lost her sight in the fog
And that quare of a crew was reduced down to two
Just myself and the captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, O Lord what a shock
The boat it was turned right over
Turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of the Irish Rover