What'S The Craic? (An Irish Medley)

I've met some folks
Who say that I'm a dreamer
And I've no doubt
There's truth in what they say
But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer
When all the things he loves are far away

And when the moonlight
Peeps across the rooftops
Of this great city
Wondrous though it be
I scarcely feel it's wonder or it's laughter
I'm once again back home in Inisfree

Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow today,
Life is fading fast away.

But, my darling, you will be, will be,
Always young and fair to me,
Yes, my darling, you will be,
Always young and fair to me.

I've been a wild rover for many's the year
and I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer
but now I'm returning with gold in great store
and I never will play the wild rover no more

And it's no, nay, never
no, nay never no more
will I play the wild rover
no never no more

And it's no, nay, never
no, nay never no more
will I play the wild rover
no never no more

In the Year of our Lord 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 trade winds drove her
She had twenty-three masts, and she stood several blasts
And they called her 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 man from Westmeath 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 the banks of the Bann
Was the skipper of the Irish Rover

We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of bone
We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails
We had four million barrels of stone
We had five million hogs and six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million sides of old blind horse's hides
In the hold of the Irish Rover

We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And our ship lost her way in the fog
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 around and the poor old dog was drowned

And I'm the last of the Irish Rover