Finnegan's Wake

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Finnegan's Wake

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
An Irish gentleman, mighty odd;
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now Tim had a sort o' the tipplin' way
With a love for the liquor poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur ev'ry morn.

Chorus

Whack fol the dah now dance to your partner (or Whack aragh, blood and ooze)
Welt the flure, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the truth that I told you (or Isn't it the truth I'm tellin' you)
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!
One mornin' Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake,
He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
With a gallon of whiskey at his feet (or a couple of candles)
And a barrel of porter at his head.
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.
Miss Biddy O'Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
"Arrah, Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
"Ah, shut your gob" said Paddy McGee!
Then Maggy O'Connor took up the job
And "Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure":
But 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 the ruction soon began.
Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed him, fallin' on the bed;
The liquor scattered over Tim.
Tim revives! See how he rises! (or Twas then the corpse began to rise)
Timothy rising from the bed (or And Tim emerging from the bed)
Sayin': "Whirl your liquor around like blazes! (or Hand me that liquor, damn your eyes)
Thanam o'n Dhoul! D'ye think I'm dead?" (or I'll outdrink yez all, alive or dead, or Souls to the Devil! Did ye think me dead?

Third Census of Finnegans Wake