Finnegan’s Wake lyrics – riotous and glorious
The lyrics to Finnegan’s Wake are brilliant in the way they convey so much so quickly.
There’s a very strong story of death and resurrection, lots of humour and zest for life, fun and fighting, and then an unexpected twist at the end.
The twist is not just that Finnegan comes back from the dead.
It’s also the fact that although it’s the whiskey that revives him, he’s appalled that it should be thrown around and wasted in such a cavalier fashion.
The lyrics convey all this in just five riotous verses.
Lyrics to Finnegan’s Wake
CTim Finnegan lived inAmWalkenStreetAFgentleman Irish,G7mightyoddHeChad a brogue bothAmrich and sweetAnd toFrise in the world heG7carriedCahodYou see he’d a sort of aAmtipplin’wayWith aClove for the liquorAmhe was bornAnd toCsend him on hisAmway each day,He’d aFdrop of the craythur everyCmorn’.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ChorusCWhack fol’ the dah will yaAmdance to your partnerFRound the floor yourGtrottersshakeCIsn’t it theAmtruth I told ya?FLots of fun atG7Finnegan’sCwake~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~One morning Tim was rather full,
His head felt heavy which made him shake.
He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home, his corpse to wake.
Rolled him up in a nice, clean sheet
Laid him out upon the bed.
With a bottle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head.
Well his friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for brunch.
Well, first she brought them tea and cake,
Then pipes, tobacco, and whiskey punch.
Then the Widow Malone began to cry,
“Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?”
” Tim, auvreen! Why did you die?”
“Will you hold yer gob?” says Molly McGee’.
Well, Mary Murphy took up the job
“Oh Biddy,” says she, “you’re wrong, I’m sure.”
Well Biddy fetched her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did then engage
‘Twas woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began.
Well Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
It missed, and landing on the bed
The whiskey scattered over Tim
Bedad revives, see how he rises!
Timothy risin’ from the bed!
Sayin’ “Throwin’ your whiskey around like blazes,”
“Thundering jaysus do ye think I’m dead?”