Scan voor CodexCoëfficiënt
Finnegan's wake
- Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
A gentle Irishman mighty odd
Had a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet
To rise in the world he carried a hod
Now Tim had a sort of a tipplin' way
With a love for the liquor he was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn
Whack fol the darn-o, dance to your partner
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake! - One mornin' Tim felt rather full
His head was heavy which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head - His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tea and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to bawl
"Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
O Tim, mavaourneen, why did you die?"
'Arragh, hold your go'b said Paddy McGhee - Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Biddy," says she, "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
And then the war did soon engage
'Twas woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began. - Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
The corpse revives! See how he rises!
Timothy rising from the bed
Sayin', "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"