email@example.com orthodox celts :: finnegan's wake A F#m Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street, D E A gentle Irishman mighty odd. A F#m He had a brogue so rich and sweet, D E And to rise in a world he carried a hod. A F#m With time in a bit of a timeless way, A F#m With a love of liquor he was born, A F#m And to help him on his way each day D E He'd a drop o' the craytur ev'ry morn. A F#m Whack fol da now dance to your partner D E round the floor your trotters shake. A F#m Wasn't it the truth I told you? D E Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake. One morning Tim was rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake. He fell off the ladder and broke his skull, so they carried him home his corpse to wake. They wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet, and laid him out upon the bed With a gallon of whiskey at his feet and a bottle of porter at his head. His friends assembled at the wake And missus Finnegan called for lunch, Then they brought him tea And cake, pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch. Biddy Malone began to cry, Such a nice clean corps did ever see Arrah! Tim avourneen why did you die With a love of your gabs at Molly Magee.
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