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christy moore - finnegan's wake كلمات الأغنية

tim finnegan lived in walkin street, a gentle irishman
mighty odd
he had a brogue both rich and sweet, an’ to rise in the
world he carried a hod
you see he’d a sort of a tipplers way but the love for
the liquor poor tim was born
to help him on his way each day, he’d a drop of the
craythur every morn

whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the
flure yer trotters shake
wasn’t it the truth i told you? lots of fun at
finnegan’s wake

one morning tim got rather full, his head felt heavy
which made him shake
fell from a ladder and he broke his skull, and 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 barrel of porter
at his head

whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the
flure yer trotters shake
wasn’t it the truth i told you? lots of fun at
finnegan’s wake

his friends -ssembled at the wake, and mrs finnegan
called for lunch
first she 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
tim avourneen, why did you die?”, “will ye hould your
gob?” said paddy mcgee

whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the
flure yer trotters shake
wasn’t it the truth i told you? lots of fun at
finnegan’s wake

then maggie o’connor took up the job, “biddy” says she
“you’re wrong, i’m sure”
biddy gave her a belt in the gob and left her sprawling
on the floor
then the war did soon engage, t’was woman to woman and
man to man
shillelagh law was all the rage and a row and a ruction
soon began

whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the
flure yer trotters shake
wasn’t it the truth i told you? lots of fun at
finnegan’s wake

mickey maloney ducked his head when a bucket of whiskey
flew at him
it missed, and falling on the bed, the liquor scattered
over tim
bedad he revives, see how he rises, timothy rising from
the bed
saying “whittle your whiskey around like blazes
t’underin’ jaysus, do ye think i’m dead?”

whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the
flure yer trotters shake
wasn’t it the truth i told you? lots of fun at
finnegan’s wake

- christy moore

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