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Finnegans Wake
Jolly Beggarmen
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Tim Finnegan lived in Watlin Street
A gentleman Irish mighty odd
He had a brogue so rich and sweet
And a rise in the world he carried a hod
Oh, Tim had a bit of a tiv'lin way
With a love for the liquor he was born
And to send him on his way
He'd stay the drop of the craythur every morn
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
One morning Tim felt rather foul
His head felt heavy and it made him shake
He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull
Then they carried him home, his corpse to wake
Oh, they wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet
And they laid him out upon the bed
With a bucket of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
Tim's friends assembled at the wake
And the widow Finnegan called for lunch
Well, first she brought in saian cake
Then pipes, tobacco and brandy punch
The widow alone began to cry
Well, such a lovely corpse did you ever see
Oh, Tim of Borin, why did you die?
Will you hold your corpse as Molly McGee?
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
Oh, Mary Murphy was on the job
And Biddy says she all wrong I'm sure
And Biddy fetched her a belt and a gob
And sent her sprawling on the floor
Well, civil war did then engage
It was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
Oh, Tim alone he ducked his head
When a bottle of Jameson flew at him
Tim ducks and landing on the bed
With the whiskey scattering over Tim
Pete's daddy arrives and see how he rises
Tim Finnegan rising in the bed
Saying swiddle de dah, whiskey around like blades
With a ton of nades, do you think I'm dead?
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
Whack fol de dah, will you dance to your partner
Round the floor, give your trotters a shake
Tending near to the truth, they tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
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