The Ballad of Finnegan’s Wake Traditional Transcriptions

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin street,
A gentleman Irish, mighty odd.
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
You see he'd a sort of a tipplin' way
With a love for the liquor he was born.
And to help him on his way each day,
He'd a drop of the craythur ev'ry morn.

CHORUS:
Whack fol' the dah, now, dance to your partner.
Wipe the floor, your trotters shake.
Isn't it the truth I told ya?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake.

One morning Tim was rather full;
His head felt heavy, which made him shake.
He fell from a ladder and he broke his skull
And 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 barrel of porter at his head.

(Repeat Chorus)