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Tim CFinnegan lived inAm Walkin Street, aF gentle IrishmanG, mighty odd.
HeC had a brogue bothAm rich and sweet, and toF rise in the Gworld he carried Ca hod.
You see he'd a sort ofAm a tipplin' way; for thCe love of the liquor pAmoor Tim was born, C
And too help him on hAmis way each day, he'Fd a 'drop of the craGythur' every mCorn.
CWhack fol the dah, Amnow dance to yeFr partner. Round the floor yeGr trotters shake.
CWasn't it thAme truth I told you?F Lots of fun at GFinnegan'sC Wake!
One mornin' Tim was rather full; his head felt heavy, which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull, so 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.
His friends assembled at the wake and Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
First they brought in tay and cake, then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien began to cry, "Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
?Arragh, Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?" ?Arragh, hold your gob!â? said Paddy McGhee!
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job, "O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she 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 a row and a ruction soon began.
Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head when a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and falling 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 an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"
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