Finnegan's Wake

Ah Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street

A gentleman Irish mighty odd

Well, he had a tongue both rich and sweet

An' to rise in the world he carried a hod

Ah but Tim had a sort of a tipplin' way

With the love of the liquor he was born

An' to send him on his way each day

He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner

Around the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I told you?

Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One morning Tim was rather full

His head felt heavy which made him shake

He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull

And they carried him home his corpse to wake

Well they rolled him up in a nice clean sheet

And they laid him out upon the bed

With a bottle of whiskey at his feet

And a barrel of porter at his head

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner

Around the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I told you?

Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Well his friends assembled at the wake

And Mrs Finnegan called for lunch

Well first they brought in tay and cake

Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch

Then the widow Malone began to cry

"Such a lovely corpse, did you ever see,

Arrah, Tim avourneen, why did you die?"

"Will ye hould your gob?" said Molly McGee

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner

Around the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I told you?

Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Well Mary O'Connor took up the job

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

Well Biddy gave her a belt in the gob

And left her sprawling on the floor

Well civil war did then 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 will ya dance to yer partner

Around the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I told you?

Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake

Well Tim Maloney raised his head

When a bottle of whiskey flew at him

He ducked, and landing on the bed

The whiskey scattered over Tim

Bedad he revives, see how he rises

Tim Finnegan rising in the bed

Saying "Whittle your whiskey around like blazes

T'underin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?"

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner

Around the flure yer trotters shake

Wasn't it the truth I told you?

Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake