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Irish Rover
Dubliners
Text File
The Irish Rover by the Dubliners and the Pogues
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This is the progression that I find most fun to play, basically the whole song goes:
G C
G D
G C
G D G
G D
G D
G Em
G D G
So once you get the hang of it you're set. This is a whacky song so don't hold
back from going a little crazy and having fun!
Here's the lyrics with an example of when the chords are played:
G C
On the Fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six
G D
We set sail from the sweet Cobh of Cork
G C
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
G D G
For the Grand City Hall in New York
G
'Twas a wonderful craft
D
She was rigged fore and aft
G D
And oh, how the wild wind drove her
G
She stood several blasts
Em
She had twenty seven masts
G D G
And they called her The Irish Rover
G C
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
G D
We had two million barrels of stone
G C
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides
G D G
We had four million barrels of bones
G
We had five million hogs
D
And six million dogs
G D
Seven million barrels of porter
G Em
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails
G D G
In the hold of the Irish Rover
There was awl Mickey Coote
Who played hard on his flute
When the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootin' 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
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 Johnny McGirr
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 Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mick MacCann
From the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover
For a sailor it's always a bother in life
It's so lonesome by night and 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' poitin 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