Tim Finnegan lived in Watlin Street, a gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue, so rich and sweet, to rise in the world he carried a hod
He'd a sort of a tipplin' way, with a love for the liquor poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work every day he'd a drop of the Craythur every morn
One mornin Tim was rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell from a ladder and broke his skull so they carried him home, his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet, they laid him out upon the bed
A bottle of whiskey at his feet and a barrel of porter at his head
And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!
His friends assembled at his wake and Missus Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake then pipes, tobacco an' whiskey punch
Biddy O' Brien began to cry, "Such a nice clean corpse did ya ever did see?
Tim, mavourneen why did ya die?" "Arhhh hold ya gob!" said Patty McGee
And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!
Then Peggie O'Connor took up the job, "Oh Biddy," she says, "You're wrong, I'm sure."
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob and left her sprawlin' 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 raised his head when a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed and falling on the bed, the liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises, Timothy rising from the dead
"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes, Thanam an dhul, did ye think I'm dead?"
And whack fol the dah O, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake,
Wasn't it the truth I told ya, lots o' fun at Finnegan's wake!
(2x)