Tenerife Day 9 of 21 (Irish rover)...

..words cannot explain to delight to see a member of the hotel staff deliver our lost soul back to the bossom of his family, he arrived back is a limosine (white van) sat of top of a pile of freshly pressed lauudry like he was the king of Tenerife, the happiness in my sons face could not be described, Our Irish Rover is back.

Now sing along, you know you want to....

On the fourth of July 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 wild winds drove her.
She'd got several blasts, she'd twenty-seven masts
And we called her the Irish Rover.

We had one million bales of the best Sligo rags
We had two million barrels of stones
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million barrels of bones.
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
Seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bails of old nanny goats' tails,
In the hold of the Irish Rover.

Shane McGowan