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- Trad`, arranged by the Dropkick Murphy`s -



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 Trippling way:

with love for a liquor Poor Tim was born, to help him on with

His work each day, He`d a drop of the Craythor every morn`



One morning Tim was rather full, his head felt Heavy, which made

him shake, fell from the Ladder and broke his skull, so they

carried Him home, his corpse to wake, rolled Him up in a nice

clean sheet, and laided Him upon the bed, A bottle of Whiskey

At his feet, and a gallon of Porter At his head



chorus: And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your Partner, welt

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 Missus Finnegan called

for lunch First they brought in tea and cake Then pipes, tobacco

and Whiskey Punch Biddy OBrien begged to cry, such a Nice clean

corpse did you see Arrah hold your gob see Paddy Magee



chorus:



Then O Connor took up the job "Arrah!" Biddy says she

Ye`re wrong I`m Sure, Biddy then gave her a belt on The gob and

left her sprawling on the Floor, there the war did soon engage

Woman to Woman and Man to Man Shillelah-law was all the rage,

an A Row and a Ruction soon began Mickey Maloney 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 Tonamondeal, do ye think I`m dead

- Trad`, arranged by the Dropkick Murphy`s -



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 Trippling way:

with love for a liquor Poor Tim was born, to help him on with

His work each day, He`d a drop of the Craythor every morn`



One morning Tim was rather full, his head felt Heavy, which made

him shake, fell from the Ladder and broke his skull, so they

carried Him home, his corpse to wake, rolled Him up in a nice

clean sheet, and laided Him upon the bed, A bottle of Whiskey

At his feet, and a gallon of Porter At his head



chorus: And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your Partner, welt

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 Missus Finnegan called

for lunch First they brought in tea and cake Then pipes, tobacco

and Whiskey Punch Biddy OBrien begged to cry, such a Nice clean

corpse did you see Arrah hold your gob see Paddy Magee



chorus:



Then O Connor took up the job "Arrah!" Biddy says she

Ye`re wrong I`m Sure, Biddy then gave her a belt on The gob and

left her sprawling on the Floor, there the war did soon engage

Woman to Woman and Man to Man Shillelah-law was all the rage,

an A Row and a Ruction soon began Mickey Maloney 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 Tonamondeal, do ye think I`m dead

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