Finnegan's Wake
Tim Finnegan lived in Grafton Street, a gentleman Irish, mighty odd
Had a tongue both rich and sweet to rise in the world he carried a hod
Tim he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way with the love of the liquor, he was born
And to send him on his way each day he'd a drop of the craythur every morn
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
One mornin' Tim was rather full his head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet and laid him on upon the bed
With a bottle of whiskey at his feet and a barrel of porter at his head
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
His friends assembled at the wake and Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Widow Malone began to cry: "Such a lovely clean corpse did you ever see?
Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"
"Will you hold your gob" said Paddy McGee
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Well Maggie O'Riley took the job: "O Biddy," says she "you're wrong"
Billy gave her a belt in the gob and left her sprawling on the floor
Well Civil War did engage, it 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 da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your 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 duce and landing on the bed, the whiskey scattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises
Tim Finnegan rising on the bed said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thundering Jesus, you think I'm dead?"
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at
Finnegan, Finnegan, Finnegan, Finnegan's wake
Had a tongue both rich and sweet to rise in the world he carried a hod
Tim he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way with the love of the liquor, he was born
And to send him on his way each day he'd a drop of the craythur every morn
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
One mornin' Tim was rather full his head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet and laid him on upon the bed
With a bottle of whiskey at his feet and a barrel of porter at his head
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
His friends assembled at the wake and Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Widow Malone began to cry: "Such a lovely clean corpse did you ever see?
Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"
"Will you hold your gob" said Paddy McGee
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Well Maggie O'Riley took the job: "O Biddy," says she "you're wrong"
Billy gave her a belt in the gob and left her sprawling on the floor
Well Civil War did engage, it 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 da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your 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 duce and landing on the bed, the whiskey scattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises
Tim Finnegan rising on the bed said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thundering Jesus, you think I'm dead?"
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Whack fol the da, will you dance to your partner round the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you lots of fun at
Finnegan, Finnegan, Finnegan, Finnegan's wake
Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Randazzo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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