Finnigan’s Wake The Dubliners

Ah Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
A gentleman Irish mighty odd
Well, he had a tongue both rich and sweet
An' to rise in the world he carried a hod
Ah but Tim had a sort of a tipplin' way
With the love of the liquor he was born
An' to send him on his way each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner
Around the flure yer 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 he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
Well they rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And they laid him out upon the bed
With a bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head

Whack fol the dah will ya dance to yer partner
Around the flure yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake