59 lines
1.9 KiB
TeX
59 lines
1.9 KiB
TeX
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Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street \\
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A gentleman Irish, mighty odd; \\
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He had a brogue both rich and sweet \\
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And to rise in the world he carried a hod. \\
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Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way \\
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With a love for the liquor he was born \\
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And to help on with is work each day \\
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He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn. \\
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\textit{[Chorus] \\
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Whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner \\
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Whirl the floor, your trotters shake; \\
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Wasn't it the truth I told you \\
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Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! \\}
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One mornin' Tim was feelin' foul \\
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His head was heavy and it made him shake; \\
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He fell from a ladder and he broke his skull \\
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And they carried him home his corpse to wake. \\
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They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet \\
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And laid him out upon the bed, \\
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A gallon of whiskey at his feet \\
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and a barrel of porter at his head. \\
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\textit{[Chorus] \\}
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His friends assembled at the wake \\
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And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch, \\
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First they brought in tea and cake \\
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Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch. \\
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Biddy O'Brien began to bawl \\
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"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see? \\
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O Tim, mavourneed, why did you die?" \\
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"Hold your gob," said Paddy McGee! \\
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\textit{[Chorus] \\}
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Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job \\
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"O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong I'm sure" \\
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Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob \\
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And left her sprawlin on the floor. \\
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And then the war did soon engage \\
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It was woman to woman and man to man \\
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Shillelagh law was all the rage \\
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And a row and a ruccus soon began. \\
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\textit{[Chorus] \\}
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Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head \\
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When a noggin of whiskey flew at him \\
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It missed, and falling on the bed \\
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The liquor squattered over Tim! \\
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The corpse revives! See how he rises! \\
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Tim Finnegan rising from the bed, \\
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Says, "Whirl your whiskey round like blazes \\
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D'ainm an diabhal!* Do you think I'm dead?" \\
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*"Your soul to the devil! (spoken: Thanum an Dhul)"
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