A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He had a blowboat, rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see, this sort of a tibbler's way
With a look for the liquor
To help a man with his work each day
Wealth before your torch, hey
Wasn't it the truth, I tell you
Lots of fun in Finnegan's way
One mornin' Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
They carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
With a gallon of whiskey on his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head
Well before your trotter shake
Wasn't it the truth, I tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
His friends assembled at the wake,
and Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First she brought in tea and cake,
then pipes, tabaccy, and whisky punch
Biddy O 'Brien began to prize,
such a nice lean corpse did ye ever see
Tim O 'Varnian, why need ye die,
wealth of the Lord, yer crotter shake
Wasn't it the truth, I tell you,
lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Then Mackie O 'Connor took up the job,
oh, Betty, she says you're wrong
that he gave her a belt in the gob,
and left her sprawling on the floor.
Then the war, it soon engaged,
was wo man to woman and man to man.
Jalali law was all the rage,
and a row and a ruction soon began.
who whelped the floor your
Wasn't it the truth, I tell you,
lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.
Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
when a bucket o' whiskey flew at him.
With mist and fallen on the bed,
the li quor scattered over Tim,
Timothy rising from the bed.
Said, your whisky round like blazes,
Donna Mundell, you'll think I'm dead.
Welcome for your trotter shake.
Wasn't it the truth, I told you,
Lots of fun at Pennington's wake.
Welcome for your trotter shake.
told you lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake!
