Im not sure if the contest is on this week due to the drama going on with steem but this is my entry anyways.
I spent all St Patrick's Day drinking and singing Irish Folk songs .
I went with this song as my entry.I have done this song for SGL before but it was only a 3 verse version when the full song is 5 verses.I couldn't remember the full song back when I first tried it so I figured with this being St Patrick's week I would try again.
"The Irish Rover"
On the Fourth of July, 1806
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 wind drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty seven masts
And they called her The Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stone
We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails
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 sides of old blind horses hides
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 cock 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 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
For a sailor it's always a bother in life
It's so lonesome by night and day
That he longs for the shore and a charming young whore
Who will melt all his troubles away
Oh, the noise and the rout swillin' poitin and stout
For him soon the torment's over
Of the love of a maid, he is never afraid
An old salt from the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost its 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