Tim Finnegan lived in watling A gentle Irishman, odd He'd a beautiful brogue so and sweet To in the world, he carried a hod
See, he'd sort of a way love for the liquor poor Tim was born To help him on his work each day He'd a drop of the craythur every
fol, de, dah Now, dance to partner Welt the floor, your trotters Wasn't it the truth, told ye lots of fun At Finnegan's
One morning Tim got rather His head felt heavy made him shake Fell a ladder and he broke his skull They carried him home, his corpse to
Rolled him up in a nice clean And laid him out the bed A of whiskey at his feet And a of porter at his head
fol, de, dah Now, to your partner Welt the floor, trotters shake it the truth, they told ye lots of fun At Finnegan's
His friends at the wake And misses Finnegan called for she brought in tea and cake Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey
Biddy began to cry Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever Tim mavourneen, why did you Arrah, hold your gob, Patty Megee
fol, de, dah Now, to your partner Welt the floor, your trotters it the truth, they told ye lots of fun At wake
Maggie O'Connor took up the job "Arrah", biddy says, she ye're wrong, I'm Biddy gave her a belt on the gob And her sprawling on the floor
There the war did soon to woman and man to man Shillelah law was all the An a row and a ruction began
fol, de, dah Now, to your partner Welt the floor, your shake it the truth, they told ye lots of fun At wake
Then Mickey Maloney raised his When a bottle of whiskey at him It missed him on the bed The scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rising from the bed Then Whirl your around blazes Thanum an Dhul Do ye think I'm