Irish Songs "Finnegan's Wake"

FINNEGAN'S WAKE
	Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street, A gentle Irishman mighty odd, He had a brogue both rich and sweet, And to rise in the world, He carried a hod, For you see he'd a sort of the tippler's way, With a love for the liquor, Tim was born, And to help him on with his work each day, He'd drop of the creater every morn. One morning Tim felt rather full, His head felt heavy which made him shake, He fell from the ladder and broke his skull, So 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 bottle of whiskey at his feet, And a barrell of porter at his head. His friends assembled at the wake And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch. First they brought in tea and cake And pipes tobbacky and whiskey punch, Biddie O'Brien began to cry, Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see? Ah Tim mavourneen why did you die? A shut your mouth said Billy Magee. Then Peggy O'Connor took up the job, Ah Biddy says she You're wrong I'm sure, Biddy gave her a belt on the gob And she landed sprawling on the floor. Then did each side in war engage, 'Twas woman to woman, and man to man, Shillelagh law was all the rage, And the raws and the ructions soon began. Then Mickey Maloney raised his head, And a bottle of whiskey flew at him, It missed and landing on the bed, The whiskey scattered over Tim. Beghor me boys see how he rises, Timothy rising from the bed, Cried while he ran around like blazes, "Thunder and lightning d'ye think I'm dead."

FINNEGAN'S WAKE

Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd,
He had a brogue both rich and sweet,
And to rise in the world,
He carried a hod,
For you see he'd a sort of the tippler's way,
With a love for the liquor, Tim was born,
And to help him on with his work each day,
He'd drop of the creater every morn.

One morning Tim felt rather full,
His head felt heavy which made him shake,
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull,
So 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 bottle of whiskey at his feet,
And a barrell of porter at his head.

His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch.
First they brought in tea and cake
And pipes tobbacky and whiskey punch,
Biddie O'Brien began to cry,
Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
Ah Tim mavourneen why did you die?
A shut your mouth said Billy Magee.

Then Peggy O'Connor took up the job,
Ah Biddy says she You're wrong I'm sure,
Biddy gave her a belt on the gob
And she landed sprawling on the floor.
Then did each side in war engage,
'Twas woman to woman, and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage,
And the raws and the ructions soon began.

Then Mickey Maloney raised his head,
And a bottle of whiskey flew at him,
It missed and landing on the bed,
The whiskey scattered over Tim.
Beghor me boys see how he rises,
Timothy rising from the bed,
Cried while he ran around like blazes,
"Thunder and lightning d'ye think I'm dead."

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