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Finnegan's Wake

Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd;
He’d a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
You see he’d a sort of the tipplin' way
With a love of the liquor poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.

Chorus:
Whack fol the dah now, dance to your partner
Whelt the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!

2. One mornin' Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake;
He fell from a ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head.

Chorus

3. His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
First they brought in tea and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
"Arragh, hold your gob" said Paddy McGhee!

Chorus

4. Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Paddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Paddy gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
And then the war did soon engage
'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began.

Chorus

5. Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a 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 rising from the bed,
Says, "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thanum an Dhul! Do you think I'm dead?"

Chorus