The Irish Rover ... Traditional ... 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 an elegant craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft And oh, how the wild winds drove her. She could stand a big blast, with her twenty-seven masts And we called her the Irish Rover. We had one million bags 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, six million dogs, Seven million barrels of porter. We had eight million bales of old nanny goats' tails, In the holds of the Irish Rover. There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a chap from Westmeath called Malone. There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracey from Dover There was Dolan, from Clare, juste as strong as a bear all aboard on the Irish Rover We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And the ship lost her way in the fog. And the whole 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 boat, she flipped right over She turned nine times around, and the poor old dog was drowned I'm the last of the Irish Rover !… Pour ceux qui ne comprennent pas l’Anglais… The Irish Rover, c’est d’abord un bateau, parti de Cork en 1806 avec à son bord un chargement de matériaux destiné à la construction de l’hôtel de ville de New York. Comme les Irlandais ont la réputation d’être quelque peu vantards, l’auteur du texte en rajoute dans la description de ce magnifique navire, doté de 27 mâts (rien que ça ! ! !) et dont les cales regorgent de marchandises aussi hétéroclites qu’inattendues : des œillères pour les chevaux, du drap de Sligo, des ossements, et bien sûr, de la bière ! Pour faire voguer the Irish Rover, un équipage du tonnerre de Brest : Johnny McGurk, pétrifié dès qu’il s’agit de travailler, Dolan, fort comme un ours, ou encore Slugger O’Toole, dont l’ébriété est une seconde nature… Après 7 ans de traversée, l’équipage est décimé par une épidémie de rougeole, avant que le bateau ne heurte un récif et ne sombre corps et âme. Et le chanteur de clamer haut et fort qu’il est le « dernier rescapé de The Irish Rover »…
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