Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street,
a gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue, so rich and sweet
to rise in the world he carried a hod
He'd a sort of a tipplin' way,
with a love for the liquor poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work each day
he'd a drop of the Craythur every morn

One mornin Tim was rather full,
his head was heavy which made him shake
He fell from a ladder and broke his skull
so they carried him home, his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
they laid him out upon the bed
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
and a barrel of porter at his head

And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!

His friends a__embled at his wake
and Missus Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
then pipes, tobacco an' whiskey punch
Biddy O' Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse did ya ever did see?
Tim, mavourneen why did ya die?"
"Arhhh hold ya gob!" said Patty McGee

And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"Oh Biddy," she says, "You're wrong, I'm sure."
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob
and she left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage
woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
and a row and a ruction soon began

Mickey Maloney raised his head
when a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed and falling on the bed
the liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises
Timothy rising from the dead
"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes,
Thanam an dhul, did ye think I'm dead?"

And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!
(2x)

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