Finnegan's Wake - Roger McGuinn, Tommy Makem

Tim Finnegan lived on Walker Street

And a gentle, Irishman, mighty odd;

He’d a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet

And to rise in the world he carried a hod

You see he’d a sort o' the tipplin' way

With a love of the liquor poor Tim was born

And to help him on with his work each day

He’d a «drop of the cray-thur» every morn

Whack fol the die do, dance to your partner

Welt the floor, your trotters shake;

Wasn’t it the truth I told you

Lots of fun at Finnegan’s wake!

2. One mornin' Tim was rather full

His head felt heavy which made him shake;

He fell from the ladder and 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 gallon of whiskey at his feet

And a barrel of porter at his head

3. His friends assembled at the wake

And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch

First they brought in tea and cake

Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch

Biddy O’Brien began to cry

«Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?

«Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?»

«Arragh, hold your gob» said Paddy McGee!

4. Then Maggie O’Connor took up the job

«O Biddy,» says she, «You're wrong, I’m sure»

Biddy gave her a belt in the gob

And left her sprawlin' on the floor

And then the war did soon engage

'Twas woman to woman and man to man

Shillelagh law was all the rage

And the row and eruption soon began

5. Then Mickey Maloney raised his head

When a noggin of whiskey flew at him

It missed, and fallin' on the bed

The liquor scattered over Tim!

Tim revives!

See how he raises!

Timothy rising from the bed

Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes

Thanum o’n Dhoul!

Did you think I’m dead?"