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Finnegan's Wake
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Miscellaneous
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Finnegan's Wake
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Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street.
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A gentleman, Irishman, mighty odd;
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He had a beautiful 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 tippler's way.
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With a love of the liquor poor Tim was born
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And to help him on with his work each day.
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He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.
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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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 felt rather full.
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His head was heavy and it made him shake;
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He fell off the ladder and broke his skull
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So 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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With a gallon of whiskey at his feet
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And a case of the blue star at his head.
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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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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His friends assembled at the wake.
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And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
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They brought in tea and whisky cake.
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Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch.
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Then Biddy O'Brien began to cry.
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"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
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"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
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Arragh, hold your gob says Paddy McGhee!
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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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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Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job.
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"Now Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
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And Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob.
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And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
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Civil war did then engage.
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'Twas 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 ruction soon began.
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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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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Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head.
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When a bottle of whiskey flew at him,
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It missed, and falling on the bed.
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The liquor scattered over Tim!
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Tim revives! See how he rises!
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Tim finnegan rising in the bed,
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Saying , "Whirling your whiskey around like blazes.
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Well Holy Jesus! Do you think I'm dead?"
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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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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Whack fol me darlin', dance to your partner
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Round 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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Comment: This irish ballad is sang all over Europe in many,
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many different ways so don't worry if some words don't fit
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exactly with the version you are listening to
Finnegans Wake - The Irish Rovers
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