Luyện nghe bài hát Finnegan's Wake

Tim lived in Walkin Street
A Irishman, mighty odd
He had a brogue rich and sweet
An' to rise in the he carried a hod
You see a sort of a tipplers way
But the love for the liquor Tim was born
And to help him on his way day
a drop of the craythur every morn

()
Whack fol the dah, now with your partner
Around the floor, your shake
Isn't it the truth, I you?
of fun at Finnegan's Wake

One Tim felt rather full
His head felt heavy, which made him
He fell off his ladder and he his skull
So they carried him home, his to wake
They wrapped him up in a nice, sheet
And they him out there upon the bed
With a of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his

()

His friends at the wake
And Mrs called for lunch
First she them tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey

Biddy began to cry:
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you see
Tim avourneen, why did you die?"
"Will ye hould your gob?" Paddy McGee

()

Then Ginny got the job:
"Biddy" she "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a upon the gob
And sent her sprawlin' on the
T'was then the war did engage
It was woman to and man to man
law, did all engage
And a row and a ruction began

()

Then Mickey Maloney ducked his
When a of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and on the bed
And the whisky over poor old Tim
Bedad he revives, now see him
Tim rise and up in the bed
Throwin' the around the place
"T'underin' Jaysus, do ye I'm dead?"