Luyện nghe bài hát Tim Finnigan's Wake

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

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

One mornin' Tim rather full
His head was which made him shake;
He from the ladder and broke his skull
And carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a nice sheet
And laid him out the bed,
A of whiskey at his feet
And a of porter at his head.

His friends at the wake
And Mrs. called for lunch,
First they in tay and cake
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 O'Connor 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 the war did soon engage
'Twas woman to and man to man,
law was all the rage
And a row and a soon began.

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