Finnegan's Wake

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,

A gentle Irishman mighty odd

He had a brogue both rich and sweet,

An' to rise in the world he carried a hod

You see he'd a sort of a tipplin' way

but for the love for the liquor poor Tim was born

To help him out with his work each day,

he'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner

round the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I'm tellin' ye,

we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim felt rather full,

his head felt heavy which made him shake

Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull, and

they carried him home his corpse to wake

Rolled him out in a nice clean sheet,

and laid him out upon the bed

A barrel of porter at his feet

and a noggin of whiskey at his head

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner

round the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I'm tellin' ye,

we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

His friends assembled at the wake,

and Missus Finnegan called for lunch (lunch!)

First she brought in tay and cake,

then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch

Biddy O'Brien began to cry,

"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,

Tim, auvreem! O, why did you die?",

and "Hold your gob?" said Paddy McGee

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner

round the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I'm tellin' ye,

we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Maggie O'Connell joined the mob,

"O Biddy" says she "you're wrong, I'm sure"

Biddy gave her a belt in the gob

and sent her sprawling on the floor

Then the war did soon engage,

t'was woman to woman and man to man

Shillelagh law was all the rage

and a row and a ruction soon began

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner

round the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I'm tellin' ye,

we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Mickey Maloney ducked his head

when the noggin of whiskey flew at him

It missed, and falling on the bed,

the liquor scattered over Tim

Tim revives, see how he rises,

Timothy risin' from the bed

Said, "hurlin' whiskey round like blazes-

Thunder 'n' lightening, do ye think I'm dead?"

Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner

round the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I'm tellin' ye,

we had lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake