Finnegan's Wake


Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street
A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world, he carried a hod
Tim had a sort of tippling way
With the love of the liquor, he was born
And to send him on his way each day
He’d a drop of the creature every morn

Whack fol the dah do, dance to your partner
Round the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn’t it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan’s Wake

One morning Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
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 bottle of whiskey at his feet
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 piped tobacco and brandy punch
The Widow Malone began to cry
‘Such a lovely corpse, did you ever see
Tim a-vourneen, why did you die?’
‘Ah, ye shut your gob’ said Biddy McGee

Mary O’Connor took up the job
‘Biddy’ says she ‘you’re wrong, I’m sure’
Then Biddy hit her a belt in the gob
Which left her sprawling on the floor
A holy war did then engage
‘twas woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began

Tim Maloney ducked his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed and landing on the bed
The whiskey splattered over Tim
Bedad he revives, see how he rises
Tim Finnegan rising in the bed
Saying ‘Fling your whiskey around like blazes
Thunderin’ Jaysus, d’ja think I’m dead

Dublin 1

Songs of Dublin


Watling Street links Rory O’Moore bridge on the River Liffey to the Guinness Malt House on Thomas Street

Clip – Cruiskeen



Song Themes