Darby O'Gill - The Irish Rover lyrics

In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six We set sail from the coal quay of Cork We were sailin' away with a cargo of bricks For the grand city hall in New York We'd an elegant craft; she was rigged fore and aft And oh, how the trade winds drove her She had twenty-three masts and she stood several blasts And we called her the Irish Rover Fare-thee-well my pretty little girl; I must sail away Fare-thee-well my pretty little girl; I must sail away There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff o' work And a chap from West Meath named Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover And your man, Mic McCaan from the banks of the Bhan Was the skipper of the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And the ship lost its way in the fog And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two Meself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock, and oh, what a shock We nearly tumbled over We turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover