\begin{SBVerse*}
On the \Ch{G}{Fourth} of July, \Ch{C}{1806}

We set \Ch{G}{sail} from the sweet Cobh of \Ch{D}{Cork}

We were \Ch{G}{sailing} away with a \Ch{C}{cargo} of bricks

For the \Ch{G}{Grand} City \Ch{D}{Hall} in New \Ch{G}{York}

'Twas a \Ch{G}{wonderful} craft, She was \Ch{D}{rigged} fore and aft

And \Ch{G}{oh}, how the wild wind \Ch{D}{drove} her

She stood \Ch{G}{several} blasts, She had \Ch{C}{twenty} seven masts

And they \Ch{G}{called} her The \Ch{D}{Irish} \Ch{G}{Rover}
\end{SBVerse}
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We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags\\
We had two million barrels of stones\\
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 barrels of old nanny goate tails\\
In the hold of the Irish Rover\\
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There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute\\
And the ladies lined up for a set\\
He would tootle with skill for each sparkling quadrille\\
Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet\\
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of the walk\\
As 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\\
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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 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 of the Irish Rover\\
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For a sailor its' 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\\
Oh, the noise and the rout swillin' poiteen and stout\\
For him soon the torment's over\\
Of the love of a maid he is never afraid\\
An old salt from the Irish Rover\\
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We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out\\
And the ship lost its way in the fog\\
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two\\
Just myself and the Captain's old dog\\
Then the ship struck a rock. Oh Lord! what a shock\\
The bulkhead was turned right over\\
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned\\
I'm the last of The Irish Rover
