The Irish Rover - The Dubliners & The Pogues Chords

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On the 4th of July, _ [C] 1806, we [G] set sail from the sweet [D] Cove of Cork.
_ [G] We were sailing away with the cargo [A] of bricks for the Grand [D] City Hall [G] in New York.
There was a wonderful [D] craft, she was rigged for the [G] drafts, and oh how the [D] wild winds blow her.
[G] She stood several blasts, she'd [C] 27 masts, and they [D] called her the [G] Irish Roamer.
_ We had one million bikes of the best [C] slugger [G] rags.
We had two million [D] barrels of gold.
[G] We had three million barrels of all nanny [C] goat's tails.
We had [D] four million barrels [G] of stone.
We had five million doves, [D] six million [G] hives, seven million [A] barrels [D] of horse.
[G] We had eight million hides of all blind [C] horses' hides.
[G] And oh, the Irish [D] _ [Em] Roamer.
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There was a old Mickey Coot who played hard on [C] his flute when [G] the ladies lined up [D] for a sit.
_ [G] He would tootle with skill for his sparkling [C] quadril, [G] till the dancers [D] were fluttered [G] and bent.
With his smart witty [D] talk, he was cock of the [G] wop, and he rolled a [D] name under and over.
[G] They argued at a dance, but he [D] took [C] up his stance, [D] and he sang in the [G] Irish Roamer. _ _ _
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_ _ [G] _ _ _ _ There was Burt Lee McGee from the banks [C] of the Lee.
[G] There was Hogan from Kent [D] in Saigon.
_ [G] There was Jimmy McGeorg who was [D] scarce to [C] put work on a [D] man from Westmead, [G] Camelot.
_ There was Slugger [D] Otto who was drunk as a roe, [G] and fighting that shite [D] sea from Dover.
[G] There was Ian Mack from the banks of [C] the Boon, [G] the skipper and the [D] Irish _ [G] Roamer.
_ For a sailor it's always a bother in life, it's so lonesome by night [D] and by day.
_ [G] Then he longs for the shore, and a pity [C] of shore will melt [D] all his troubles [G] away.
All the nights in the rout, [D] fill up with genie stout, [G] for him soon is done [D] and over.
But [G] the love of a maid, he'd never [C] heard a fray, [D] and no song from the Irish [G] _ _ _ Roam.
When he sailed the Chimneys, when [Bm] the [C] mazes broke out, [G] and he seemed lost his way [D] in the flood.
_ [G] And the whale of a crew was reduced [C] down the tube, [D] as the savannah captains [G] all said.
Then a ship struck her up, [D] oh Lord what a shock, [G] _
something was [D] heard right all over. _
Heard [G] nine times around, and the poor old dog was [C] round. _ _
_ _ _ [G] _ _ Blast the Irish _ Roamer! _ _ _ _
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