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A group set sail from the sweet View of Grand
They were sailing away with a cargo of brews
For Byrne's, the grand pub of the land
'Twas an elegant crew, that was staggering a-scew
And how the Jameson whiskey did impair them
They could drink a great blast with their hands tied behind their backs
And we called them the drunken Irish Roamers

There was the family O'Bednars from the banks of U.A.
There was the Jensen Clan who were a gas
There was Danger Baumer who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from Cranford called Mackey
There was Al and Erin O'Toole who were drunk as a rule
And fighting Deb Kelbaugh from Grandview-arney
And your man Timmy Roberts from the banks of Broadview
Was the skipper of the drunken Irish Roamers

Derrick had one million bags of his best naugthy mags
Haber had two million barrels of cigars
Donovan had three million sides, of hagis for his fries
Jodee had four million barrels of wine
The Slaven's had five million chips, six million dips
Fazzio had seven million barrels of porter
Jen had eight million bales of yummy Guiness ales
They knew how to party, those drunken Irish Roamers!

They had drank for several hours when they broke the shot-ski out
And their last game of Drinko was all but done
Then the whole drunken crew ran an obstacle or two
And they all agreed they were ready for more fun
They called Byrne for a bus, and tried not to cus
When he said they'd try to be right over
Once inside the bar, they order shots near and far
That'll be the end for the drunken Irish Roamers!