Tom: A major
Verse 1
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In the year of our Lord, 1806,
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We set sail from the Polka and Cork.
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For that grand city hall in New York.
We'd an elegant craft,
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we were rigged for an amp,
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And how the train withdrew,
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She's twenty -three best,
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and she's stood several blasts,
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and we called her the Irish Rover.
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from the banks of the Lee,
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There was Hogan from Calgary,
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There was young Mick McGurk,
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who was scarce stiff for work,
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And a chap from Westby, the name Malone.
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There was Slugger O'Toole,
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And fighting no trace even over,
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And the only thing we'd get
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from the banks of the band,
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Was the skimmer of the Irish Rover.
We had one million bags of the best lager,
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And we had two million barrels of stone,
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We had three million bales
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We had four million barrels of bone
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Five million hogs, six million dogs
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And seven million barrels of water
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We had eight million sides
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of old blind horse's hides
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And the whole of the Irish Rover
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Interlude 1
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Am
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Verse 2
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Well we sailed seven years
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till the measles broke out
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And the ship lost her way in the fog
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Then the whole of the crew
was reduced down to two
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Us, myself, and the captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock,
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and nearly tumbled over
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She turned nine times around,
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and that poor old dog was drowned
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Now I'm the last of the Irish Rover you
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