{title: The Irish Rover}
{artist: Trad (Irish; popularised by The Dubliners/Pogues 1987 collaboration)}
{key: G}
{tempo: 132}
{difficulty: intermediate}
{strand: R}
{feel: drive}
{lead_voice: any}
{lead_mode: unison}
{lead_demand: moderate}
{harmony: M,H}
{a_cappella: no}
{kit: gtr,bod,fdl,mnd,whs}
{set_role: romp}
{lang: en}
{country_tags: IE}
{copyright: pd}
{tags: chorus,disaster-ballad,group-sing,irish,maritime,pub,public-domain,romp,singalong,tall-tale,traditional,wordy}
{video: youtube:1lHp-H3EOzA}
{credit: Traditional Irish tall-tale ballad about the wreck of the ship "Irish Rover" — composition pre-dates the famous 1987 Pogues/Dubliners collaboration; the text is widely circulated in older Irish songbooks and is firmly public domain. Reference recording: The Pogues feat. The Dubliners — 'The Irish Rover' from 'If I Should Fall from Grace with God' (1987), YouTube `1lHp-H3EOzA`.}

{c: Big rolling pub-romp in G. Three chords (G / C / D) the whole way through; six verses of escalating tall-tale absurdity (the cargo lists, the crew, the wreck). No chorus — each verse ends with the line "the Irish Rover" and the room hammers it.}
{c: Wordy: each verse is dense. Lead must enunciate; the room sings the punchline. Practice the cargo verse (verse 2, "one million bags of the best Sligo rags") — it's the tongue-twister centrepiece.}

{c: ===== STRUCTURE =====}
{c: Six verses, no chorus. The last line of each verse ("…in the Irish Rover" / "…of the Irish Rover" / etc.) is the singalong hook — everyone joins on that line. Big slow-down on verse 6 ("I'm the last of the Irish Rover") — hard stop.}

{c: Verse 1 — setting sail}
{start_of_verse}
On the [G]fourth of Ju[C]ly, eighteen [G]hundred and [D]six
We set [G]sail from the [C]sweet cove of [D]Cork
We were [G]sailing a[C]way with a [G]cargo of [D]bricks
For the [G]grand city [C]hall in New [D]York
'Twas a [G]wonderful [C]craft, she was [G]rigged fore and [D]aft
And [G]oh, how the [C]wild wind [D]drove her
She'd [G]stood several [C]blasts, she had [G]twenty-seven [D]masts
And they [G]called her The [C]Irish [D]Rov[G]er
{end_of_verse}

{c: Verse 2 — the cargo (the tongue-twister)}
{start_of_verse}
We had [G]one million [C]bags of the [G]best Sligo [D]rags
We had [G]two million [C]barrels of [D]stones
We had [G]three million [C]sides of old [G]blind horses' [D]hides
We had [G]four million [C]barrels of [D]bones
We had [G]five million [C]hogs and [G]six million [D]dogs
And [G]seven million [C]barrels of [D]porter
We had [G]eight million [C]bales of old [G]nanny goats' [D]tails
In the [G]hold of the [C]Irish [D]Rov[G]er
{end_of_verse}

{c: Verse 3 — Mickey Coote}
{start_of_verse}
There was [G]old Mickey [C]Coote who played [G]hard on his [D]flute
When the [G]ladies lined [C]up for a [D]set
He was [G]tootin' with [C]skill for each [G]sparkling quad[D]rille
Though the [G]dancers were [C]fluthered and [D]bet
With his [G]sparse witty [C]talk he was [G]cock of the [D]walk
And he [G]rolled the dames [C]under and [D]over
They all [G]knew at a [C]glance when he [G]took up his [D]stance
That he [G]sailed in the [C]Irish [D]Rov[G]er
{end_of_verse}

{c: Verse 4 — the crew roll-call}
{start_of_verse}
There was [G]Barney Ma[C]gee from the [G]banks of the [D]Lee
There was [G]Hogan from [C]County Ty[D]rone
There was [G]Jimmy Mc[C]Gurk who was [G]scarred stiff to [D]work
And a [G]man from West[C]meath called Ma[D]lone
There was [G]Slugger O'[C]Toole who was [G]drunk as a [D]rule
And [G]fighting Bill [C]Tracy from [D]Dover
And your [G]man Mick Mc[C]Cann from the [G]banks of the [D]Bann
Was the [G]skipper of the [C]Irish [D]Rov[G]er
{end_of_verse}

{c: Verse 5 — the wreck (slower start, builds)}
{start_of_verse}
We had [G]sailed seven [C]years when the [G]measles broke [D]out
And the [G]ship lost her [C]way in a [D]fog
And the [G]whole of the [C]crew was re[G]duced down to [D]two
'Twas me[G]self and the [C]captain's old [D]dog
Then the [G]ship struck a [C]rock — oh [G]Lord what a [D]shock!
The [G]bulkhead was [C]turned right [D]over
Turned [G]nine times a[C]round, and the [G]poor dog was [D]drowned
I'm the [G]last of the [C]Irish [D]Rov[G]er
{end_of_verse}

{c: ===== BIG FINISH =====}
{c: Hard stop on "Rover" — let it ring, then dead silence. Optional: one slow "Irish Rover" tag at the end as a wistful epilogue, sung quietly.}

{c: PRACTICE NOTES}
{c: Strum: galloping 4/4, accent on 1 and 3. Bodhrán: triplet roll on the long bars; double-time the last two lines of each verse.}
{c: Lead voice — pick the strongest narrator in the band. This is a story song; the words have to land or the joke dies.}
{c: Harmony: room joins on the last line of every verse ("the Irish Rover"). Don't add harmony to the verses; the wordiness can't carry it.}
{c: Whistle/fiddle: ride the chord changes; take 8 bars between verses for instrumental interludes if energy is high. Cut the interludes if you want to keep verses tight.}
{c: Mandolin: chop on 2 and 4 throughout, classic Irish-trad rhythm.}
{c: Romp slot — the band's pub-anthem call. Pair after a hush song for maximum contrast, or use mid-set to push energy up.}
{c: Pronunciation gotchas: "fluthered" (rhymes with "shuddered") = drunk; "bet" = beat / exhausted; "set" = quadrille dance set. Old Irish-pub vocabulary — don't modernise.}