[Intro]
Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
To rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd sort of a tippling way
With love for a liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work every day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn'
[Verse 1]
One morning Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from a ladder and broke his skull
They carried him home, his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a gallon of porter at his head
[Chorus]
Whack fol-de-dol now dance to your partner
Walk the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ye
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
To rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd sort of a tippling way
With love for a liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work every day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn'
[Verse 1]
One morning Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from a ladder and broke his skull
They carried him home, his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a gallon of porter at his head
[Chorus]
Whack fol-de-dol now dance to your partner
Walk the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told ye
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
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