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11 Cards in this Set
- Front
- Back
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Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street A gentleman Irishman mighty odd |
He seen a brogue so soft and sweet And to rise in the world he carried the hod |
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Tim had a sort of a tipplin' way With a love of the liquor now he was born |
To help him on with his work each day Had a "drop of the craythur" every morn |
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Whack fol-the-dah, oh dance to your partner Welt the floor, your trotters shake |
Wasn't it the truth I told ya? Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake |
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One mornin' Tim felt rather full His head felt heavy which made him shake |
Fell from a ladder and he burst his skull So they carried him home his corpse to wake |
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Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet Laid him out upon the bed |
A gallon of whiskey at his feet A barrel of porter at his head (chorus) |
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His friends assembled at the wake And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch |
First they brung in tea and cake Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch |
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Biddy O'Brien began to cry "Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see? |
Tim mavourneen, why did you die?" "Aarrgh, shut your gob" said Paddy McGee |
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Patty O'Connor took up the job "Ah Biddy, " says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure" |
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob Then left her sprawlin' on the floor |
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Then the war did soon enrage Woman to woman and man to man |
Shillelagh-law was all the rage And a row and a ruction soon began |
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Mickey Maloney lowered his head And a bottle of whiskey flew at him |
Missed, and fallin' on the bed The liquor scattered over Tim |
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Tim revives! See how he rises! Timothy risin' from the bed |
Sayin': "Whirl your liquor around like blazes Thunderin' Jaysus! Do you think I'm dead?" Chorus |
