Author Topic: The Irish Rover  (Read 1631 times)

Giovanni Blasini

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The Irish Rover
« on: 17 March 2017, 23:13:14 »
(With apologies to the Pogues)

On the Fourth of July, 3006
 We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
 We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
 For the Grand City Hall on York
 'Twas a wonderful craft
 She was rigged fore and aft
 And oh, how the solar wind drove her
 She stood several klicks
 She had twenty seven DropShips
 And they called her The Irish Rover


We had one million bags of the best Sarna rags
 We had two million barrels of stone
 We had three million sides of old blind branth's hides
 We had four million barrels of bones
 We had five million hogs
 And six million dogs
 Seven million barrels of porter
 We had eight million bails of old tabiranths' 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 a set
 He was tootin' with skill
 For each sparkling quadrille
 Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
 With his smart witty talk
 He was ****** of the walk
 And he rolled the dames under and over
 They all knew at a glance
 When he took up his stance
 That he sailed in The Irish Rover

There was Barney McGee
 From the world Timbiqui
 There was Hogan from planet Tyrone
 There was Johnny McGurk
 Who was scared stiff of work
 And a man from Alphard called Malone
 There was Slugger O'Toole
 Who was drunk as a rule
 And Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
 And your man, Mick MacCann
 From New Samarkand
 Was the skipper of the Irish Rover


For a sailor it's always a bother in life
 It's so lonesome by night and by day
 'Til he launch for a world and a charming young girl
 Who will melt all his troubles away
 All the noise and the rout
 Swollen poitín and stout
 For him soon the torment's over
 Of the love of a maid he's never afraid
 And old sot from the Irish Rover


We had sailed seven years
 When Brisbane virus broke out
 And the ship lost its way in the void
 And that whale of a crew
 Was reduced down to two
 Just myself 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 in place
 And the poor old dog was spaced
 I'm the last of The Irish Rover
« Last Edit: 26 March 2017, 19:00:39 by Giovanni Blasini »
"Does anyone know where the love of God goes / When the waves turn the minutes to hours?"
-- Gordon Lightfoot, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

Siegfried Marcus

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Re: The Irish Rover
« Reply #1 on: 26 March 2017, 12:08:09 »
plus ça change ...
Here is my AU story set in the Free Rasalhague Republic.
http://bg.battletech.com/forums/index.php?topic=52953.0

Daryk

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Re: The Irish Rover
« Reply #2 on: 26 March 2017, 14:45:28 »
... plus c'est la même chose.

Giovanni Blasini

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  • And I think it's gonna be a long, long time...
Re: The Irish Rover
« Reply #3 on: 26 March 2017, 19:02:54 »
Just noticed I'd had an oopsie in the last line ("And" instead of "I'm").  Fixed it.  And, yes, since I wrote this on St. Patrick's Day, some Irish whiskey might have been involved. [cheers]
"Does anyone know where the love of God goes / When the waves turn the minutes to hours?"
-- Gordon Lightfoot, "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

 

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