Luyện nghe bài hát Tim Finnigan's Wake

Tim Finnegan lived in Street
A gentle Irishman odd;
He'd a beautiful brogue both rich and
And to rise in the world he a hod.
Now Tim had a of the tipplin' way
With a love of for the liquor Tim was born
And to help him on his work each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" morn.

Whack fol the O, dance to your partner
the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the I told you
of fun at Finnegan's wake!

One mornin' Tim felt rather
His was heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and his skull
And they carried him his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a clean sheet
And him out upon the bed,
A of whiskey at his feet
And a of porter at his head.

His friends assembled at the
And Mrs. Finnegan for lunch,
First they brought in tay and
pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien to cry
"Such a clean corpse, did you ever see?
"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
Arragh, your gob said Paddy McGhee!

Then Maggie took up the job
"O Biddy," she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she gave her a in the gob
And left her on the floor.
And then the war did soon
'Twas woman to and man to man,
law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction began.

Then Mickey ducked his head
a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
It missed, and on the bed
The scattered over Tim!
The revives! See how he raises!
rising from the bed,
Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like
an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"