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Lirik Lagu Tim Finnegan's Wake - Tommy Makem

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Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin StreetA gentle Irishman, mighty oddHe'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweetAnd to rise in the world he carried a hodYou see he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' wayWith the love of the liquor, poor Tim was bornAnd to help him on with his work each dayHe'd a drop of the craythur every morn
Chorus:Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partnerWelt the floor your trotters shakeWasn't it the truth I tell youLots of fun at Finnegan's wake
One mornin' Tim was rather fullHis head felt heavy, which made him shakeHe fell from the ladder and he broke his skullAnd they carried him home his corpse to wakeThey rolled him up in a nice clean sheetAnd laid him out upon the bedWith a gallon of whiskey at his feetAnd a barrel of porter at his head
His friends assembled at the wakeAnd Mrs. Finnegan called for lunchFirst they brought in tay and cakeThen pipes, tobacco and whiskey punchBiddy O'Brien began to cry"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?Tim Mavourneen why did you die?""Arrah hold your gob" said Paddy McGee
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job"O Biddy," says she "you're wrong I'm sure"Biddy gave her a belt in the gobAnd left her sprawling on the floorThen the war did soon engageIt was woman to woman and man to manShillelagh law was all the rageAnd a row and a ruction soon began
Then Mickey Maloney raised his headWhen a bucket of whiskey flew at himIt missed and falling on the bedThe liquor scattered over TimTim revives, see how he risesTimothy rising from the bedSaid "Whirl your whiskey around like blazesThundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"