The Irish Rover

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On the fourth of July eighteen hundred and six

We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork

We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks

For the grand city hall in New York

'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft

And oh, how the wild winds drove her.

She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts

And we called her the Irish Rover.

 

We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags

We had two million barrels of stones

We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,

We had four million barrels of bones.

We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,

Seven million barrels of porter.

We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails,

In the hold of the Irish Rover.

 

There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute

When the ladies lined up for his set

He was tootin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille

Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet

With his sparse witty talk he was cock of the walk

As he rolled the dames under and over

They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance

And he sailed in the Irish Rover

 

There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,

There was Hogan from County Tyrone

There was Jimmy McGurk who was scarred stiff of work

And a man from Westmeath called Malone

There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule

And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover

And your man Mick McCann from the banks of the Bann

Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

 

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out

And the ship lost it's way in a fog.

And that whale of the crew was reduced down to two,

Just meself 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 dog was drowned

I'm the last of the Irish Rover

 

The Fields of Athenry

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PDF freesheet music The Fields of Athenry F-Major

PDF freesheet music The Fields of Athenry G-Major

 

By a lonely prison wall

I heard a young girl calling

"Michael they are taking you away

For you stole Travellyn´s corn

so that the young might see the morn´

Now the prison ship lies waiting in the bay"

 

 

Low lie the fields of Athenry

Where once we watched

the small free birds fly

Our love was on the wing

we had dreams and songs to sing

It´s so lonely ´round the fields of Athenry

 

 

By a lonely prison wall

I heard a young man calling

"Nothing matters, Mary,

when you´re free

Against the famine and the Crown

I rebelled, they ran me down

Now you must raise our child with dignity"

 

 

Low lie the fields of Athenry

Where once we watched

the small free birds fly

Our love was on the wing

we had dreams and songs to sing

It´s so lonely ´round the fields of Athenry

 

 

By a lonely harbour wall

she watched the last star falling

While the prison ship

sailed out against the sky

Sure she wait and hope and pray

for her love in Botany Bay

It´s so lonely round the fields of Athenry

 

 

 

Tanz rüber tanz nüber

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Tanz rüber, tanz nüber,

tanz nauf und tanz no!

Ei, leih mir dei Schotzla

dös mei is nit do!"

"I leih dir sche nit

i ga dir sche nit,

kan sana Schmarutzer

den brauch i jo nit."

 

"Und wenn du sau stolz

mit deim Schotzla willst sei,

so nemm a Papierle

un wickels enei!

Un nemm a roats Bandel

un strick se fest zu,

nachert kimmt dir ka

sau a Schmarutzer derzu!"

stewball

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Sheetmusic Bass Clef - Stewball - Eb-Major>>>

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Sheetmusic Bass Clef - Stewball - A-Major>>>

Sheetmusic Bass Clef - Stewball - Ab-Major>>>

Sheetmusic Bass Clef - Stewball - G-Major>>>

Sheetmusic Bass Clef - Stewball - F-Major>>>

 

Oh, Stewball was a race horse,

And I wish he were mine.

He never drank water.

He always drank wine.

His bridle was silver.

His mane, it was gold.

And the worth of his saddle

Has never been told.

Oh, the fair grounds were crowded,

And Stewball was there.

But the betting was heavy,

On the bay and the mare.

And way up yonder,

Ahead of them all

Came a prancing and a dancing,

my noble Stewball.

I bet on the grey mare,

I bet on the bay.

If I'd a-bet on old Stewball,

I'd be a free man today.

Oh, the hoot owl she hollers,

And the turtle dove moans,

I'm a poor boy in trouble.

A long way from home.

Oh, Stewball was a race horse,

And I wish he were mine.

He never drank water.

He always drank wine