In the year of our lord, Fifteen- Hundred-and-Six, we set sail from the cold bay of Cork.
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks, for that grand city hall down in York
An elegant craft she was rigged fore and aft, and how the trade winds drove her
She had twenty-three masts, and she stood several blasts, and they called her the "Irish Rover"

    Chorus:
    So fair thee well, my pretty little girl,
    For we are bound away!
    Fair thee well, my pretty little girl, 
    For we are bound away!

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnnie McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a chap from Westmeath named 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.  (Chorus)

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags, we had two million barrels of bones, 
We had three million bails of old nanny-goats' tails, we had four million barrels of stone,
W had five million hogs, six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter,
We had eight million sides of old blind horses hides in the hold of the Irish Rover. (Chorus)

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost it's way in a fog,
And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two, 'twas myself and the captain's old dog.
Then the ship struck a rock [STOMP], Lord, what a shock [STOMP STOMP], we nearly tumbled over!
We spun nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned -- I'm the last of the Irish Rovers! 

    Chorus:
    So fair thee well, my pretty little girl,
    For we are bound away!
    Fair thee well, my pretty little girl, 
    For we are Bounding Main!