Luyện nghe bài hát Finnegan's Wake

Tim lived in Walkin Street
A Irishman, mighty odd
He had a both rich and sweet
An' to rise in the world he a hod
You see he'd a sort of a way
But the love for the poor Tim was born
And to him on his way each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every

()
Whack fol the dah, now dance your partner
Around the floor, your trotters
it the truth, I tell you?
Lots of fun at Wake

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

()

His assembled at the wake
And Mrs Finnegan for lunch
First she them tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and punch

Biddy O'Brien to cry:
"Such a clean corpse, did you ever see
Tim avourneen, why did you die?"
"Will ye hould gob?" said Paddy McGee

()

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

()

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