Orthodox Celts - Finnegan's Wake

LYRICS:
Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' Street,
a gentle Irishman mighty odd.
He had a brogue so rich and sweet,
and to rise in a world he carried a hod.

With time in a bit of a timeless way,
with a love of liquor he was born.
To help him on his way each day
he'd a drop o' the craytur every morn'.

Whack fol da, now dance to your partner,
round 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 off the ladder and broke his skull,
so they carried him home his corpse to wake.

They wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet,
and laid him out upon the bed.
With a gallon of whiskey at his feet,
and a bottle of porter at his head.

His friends assembled at the wake,
and missus Finnegan called for lunch.
Then they brought him tea and cake,
pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.

Biddy Malone began to cry,
such a nice clean corpse did ever see.
Arrah! Tim avourneen, why did you die,
with a love of your gabs at Molly McGee.

Mary Murphy took the job,
old Biddy, he is wrong I'm sure.
Biddy gave her a belt on the gob,
and she left sprawling on the floor.

Each side in war did soon engage,
it was woman to woman and man to man.
Shillelagh-law was all the rage,
and a row and a ruction so began.

Tim Maloney raised his head,
when a bottle of whiskey flew at him.
He dropped and landed on the bed.
The whiskey scattered over Tim.

I'll be dead if see how he raises.
Timothy raisin' in the bed,
seeing plenty of whiskey 'round the places,
with a tour of gin that I think I'm dead.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• orthodox
• celts
• finnegan
• wake

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