I think much like another song “Anti-Matter” (that's also on the same album as this song), this one is also is inspired by a horrifying van crash the band experienced on Nov 3, 2022. This, much like the other track, sounds like it's an extension what they shared while huddled in the wreckage, as they helped frontman Garrett Russell stem the bleeding from his head wound while he was under the temporary effects of a concussion. The track speaks of where the mind goes at the most desperate & desolate of times, when it just about slips away to all but disconnect itself, and the aftermath.
In the year of our lord, 1806
We set sail from the culkay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For that Grand City Hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft
It was rigged fore and aft
And how the wild wind drove her
She had 23 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 chap from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man, Mick McCann
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 stones
We had three million sides of old nanny goat's tails
We had four million barrels of stone
We had five million hogs
Six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million barrels of old blind horse's hides
In the hold of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog (big 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
And nearly tumbled over
She turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of The Irish Rover
We set sail from the culkay of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks
For that Grand City Hall in New York
'Twas a wonderful craft
It was rigged fore and aft
And how the wild wind drove her
She had 23 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 chap from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole
Who was drunk as a rule
And Fighting Bill Tracy from Dover
And your man, Mick McCann
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 stones
We had three million sides of old nanny goat's tails
We had four million barrels of stone
We had five million hogs
Six million dogs
And seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million barrels of old blind horse's hides
In the hold of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years
When the measles broke out
And the ship lost its way in the fog (big 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
And nearly tumbled over
She turned nine times around
And the poor old dog was drowned
I'm the last of The Irish Rover
Lyrics submitted by MJF92289
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