(Chorus)
Whack fol the dah will you dance to your partner
'Round the floor your trotters shake
Bend an ear to the truth I told ya
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
One morning Tim felt rather full
His head felt heavy and it made him shake
He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
Well they wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet
And they laid him out upon the bed
With a bucket of whiskey at his feet
And a bottle of porter at his head
(Repeat chorus)
Tim's friends assembled at the wake
And the widow Finnegan called for lunch
Well, first they brought in tea and cakes
Then pipes, tobacco, and brandy punch
'Till the Widow Malone began to cry
"Such a lovely corpse did you ever see?
Ah, Tim avourneen why did ya die?"
"Will ya hold your gob?" says Molly McGee
(Repeat chorus)
Old Mary Murphy was on the job
Says, "Biddy, you're wrong and of that I'm sure"
Well Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And sent her sprawling on the floor
Well civil war did then engage
It was woman to woman and man to man
Shilleleigh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began
(Repeat chorus)
Poor Tim Maloney raised his head
When a bottle of Jameson flew at him
Tim ducked, and landing on the bed
With the whiskey scattering over Tim
Bedad he revives and see how he rises
Tim Finnegan risin' in the bed
Sayin', "Spillin' your whiskey around like blazes
Well, thunderin' Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"
(Repeat chorus twice)