Luyện nghe bài hát Tim Finnigan's Wake

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin'
A gentle Irishman mighty
He'd a beautiful brogue both rich and
And to rise in the 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 with his each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" morn.

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

One mornin' Tim felt full
His head was heavy made him shake;
He fell from the ladder and broke his
And carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a clean sheet
And laid him out 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 brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and punch.
O'Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever
"O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
Arragh, hold your gob said McGhee!

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

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