You can not select more than 25 topics
Topics must start with a letter or number, can include dashes ('-') and can be up to 35 characters long.
69 lines
2.4 KiB
69 lines
2.4 KiB
\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}
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
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\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
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\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
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\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
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\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
~\\
|
|
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
|
|
|