Finnegan'S Wake (Traditional) - Dropkick Murphys

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 tippling way, with love for a liquor poor tim was born, to help him on with his work every 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 laid him upon the bed, a bottle of whiskey at his feet, and a gallon of porter at his head, and whack fol-de-dah now 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, his friends assembled at his wake, and missus finnegan called for lunch, first they brought in tay and cake, then pipes, tobacco and whiskey and punch, biddy o'brien began to cry, such a nice clean corpse did you ever did see, tim mavourneen, why did you die?, hold your gob said paddy mcgee. and whack fol-de-dah now 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. then peggy o'connor took up the job, biddy she says you're wrong i'm sure, biddy then gave her a belt on the gob, and left her sprawling on the floor, then the war did soon engage, woman to woman and man to man, shillelah law was all the rage, and a row and a ruction soon began, mickey maloney he 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 whiskey around like blazes, thanum an dhul, do ye think i'm dead. and whack fol-de-dah now 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.