调:G minor•
Verse 1
Walkin' Street,
a gentle Irishman,
mighty odd.
He'd a beautiful brook, so rich and sweet,
and to rise in the world he
Bb
Gm
To help him on with his work each day,
he'd a drop of the craitor every morn.
Whack for the Dan out and steal,
partner,
Wipe the floor, your trotters shake.
Wasn't it the truth, I told you,
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.
One morning Tim was rather full,
His head felt heavy,
which made him shake.
He fell from the lather
and they broke his skull,
So they carried him home,
Bb
Gm
With a gallon of whisky at his feet,
and steel partner,
Wipe the floor, your trotters shake.
wake?
His friends assembled at the wake,
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch.
First they brought in tea and cake,
Then pipes, tobacco, and
you ever see?
why did you die?
At a howl, your gob said,
Paddy McGee.
Dance to your partner,
Well to floor your brother's shake.
Wasn't it the truth, I told you,
Oh, Biddy, says she,
you're wrong, I'm sure.
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob,
Shalalie Law was all the rage,
And a row in the ruck shall soon begin.
dance to your partner,
It missed and fallen on the bed,
the liquor scattered over
Dm
Gm
Says, whirl your whiskey around like blazes,
pun him and deal,
that's dear partner,
went to blow your trotter's shake.
Wasn't it the truth, I told you,
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