**Irish Rover (Hobbit Boater) by the Pogues
**Hobbit Boater - lyrics by Drummor and Finarphin*

It was just fifty years since the old Took had died,
and we thought we'd go out on the stream.
So, we built us a boat and away we did float,
and the weather was just like a dream.
She was an elegant craft, caulked fore and aft,
and oh, how her oars they dro o ve her.
She could sit six of us, without too much fuss
and we called her the Hobbit Boater.

We had stocked up the boat before she took float
as we loaded her up full of grub.
For we knew we would eat and we needed a treat
to see us survive in that rotten old tub.
We had 25 hams, and 35 yams
and 45 pies made of be e rries
We had 10 kegs all full of the Perch's best brew,
in the hold of the Hobbit Boater!

There was Tommy Buntree from the Green Hill country,
and Otto from Frogmorton town,
There was Willie the clerk he was scared stiff o' work
and Sam Whitfoot the silly old clown.
There was Lartho the chef and Gaffer with his chest
that he lugged from here all o o ver
and yer man Perrin Took from the banks of the brook
was the master of the Hobbit Boater.

Well ol' Tommy he played on his fine wooden flute
When the ladies lined up on the shore
He was tootin' with skill for each sparklin' quadrille
With no room to dance on the floor.
And Sam's sharp witty talk made him cock of the walk
and he kept us in stitches all o o ver
They all knew at a glance when I took up me stance
I was master of the Hobbit Boater

Well we locked in our oars and away we did row.
And pulled for the middle of the stream.
When Willie cried out he had spotted a trout,
like a kettle that started to steam!
Well Lartho fell back like a great tater sack!
And the boater she nearly tipped o o over!
But I got her right back with a good tiller whack
As we sailed in the Hobbit Boater!

Well poor Tommy was parched from all the tootin’ on his flute
So he went for a good swig of beer.
But the beer was all gone as was most of the grub
And the crew was all eatin’ hard.
Then Sam he cries out, Gaffer yer no but a lout
And tosses at him his last left o o overs.
Gaffer he drops his oar, as he started to snore!
There was panic on the Hobbit Boater!

We had sailed seven minutes when the first oar was lost,
and we noted a big bank of fog.
So, we all pulled hard, headed straight for the yard
of the lumber mill to get extra tar.
Then the boat struck a rock, oh lord what a shock
and the Boater well she flipped o o ver
spun nine times around
and poor old Tom near drown'd

That’s the end of the Hobbit Boater!