Pogues - Irish Rover, аккорды

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    Оn the Fourth of July, eighteen hundred and six 
           
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    We set sail from the sweet Cove of Cork 
         
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    We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks 
       
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    For the Grand City Hall in New York 
            
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    'Twas an elegant craft rigged fore and aft 
         
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    And oh, how the wild wind drove her 
             
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    She could stand a great blast    She had twenty seven masts 
       
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    And they called her The Irish Rover 
 
          
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    We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags 
         
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    We had two million barrels of stone 
         
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    We had three million sides of old blind horses hides 
         
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    We had four million barrels of bones We had five million hogs 
        
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    And six million dogs    Seven million barrels of porter 
        
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    We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails 
           
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    In the hold of the Irish Rover  
    
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    There was awl Mickey Coote Who played hard on his flute 
      
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    When the ladies lined up for a set He was tootin' with skill 
    
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    For each sparkling quadrille Though the dancers were 
           
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    fluther'd and bet 
          
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    With his smart witty talk He was cock of the walk 
           
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    And he rolled the dames under and over 
            
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    They all knew at a glance 
     
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    When he took up his stance That he sailed in The Irish Rover 
     
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    There was Barney McGee From the banks of the Lee 
              
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    There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGirk 
              
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    Who was scared stiff of work & a chap from Westmeath 
           
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    called Malone 
               
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    There was Slugger О'Toole drunk as a rule 
                           
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    Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover And your man, Mick MacCann 
             
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    From the banks of the Bann Was the skipper of the Irish Rover 
      
             
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    We had sailed seven years When the measles broke out  
          
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    And the ship lost its way in the fog And that whale of a crew 
                     
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    Was reduced down to two Just myself and the Captain's old dog 
          
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    Then the ship struck a rock Оh Lord what a shock 
          
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    The boat it flipped right over Turned nine times around 
        
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    And the poor old dog was drowned I'm the last 
      
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    of The Irish Rover