"Finnegan's Wake" lyrics - DROPKICK MURPHYS

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'

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

His friends assembled at his wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien beggan to cry
Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see
Tim avourneen, why did you die?
Hold your gob! said Paddy McGee

[Chorus:]
Then Peggy O'Connor took up the job
Biddy she says you're wrong, I'm sure
Biddy then gave her a belt in the gob
And 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 he raised his head
When a bottle Of whiskey flew at him
It missed him falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises
Timothy rising from the bed
"Whirl your whisky around like blazes -
Th'anam 'on diabhal! Do you think I'm dead?"

[Chorus]