Тональность

 
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Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street a gental Irishman...mighty Оdd
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He'd a beautiful brogue, so rich and sweet and to rise 
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in the world he carried a Hod 
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You see he'd a sort of a tippling way with the love 
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for the liquor poor Tim was born 
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And to help him on with his work each day he'd a drop 
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of the craythur every morn'. 

Chorus: 
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And Whack-fold-de-dah now dance to your partner 
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Welt the floor, till you trotter & shake 
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Wasn't it the truth I told ye? 
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Lots of fun a Finnegan's wake 
 
Оnе mornin Tim was rather full His head felt heavy, 
which made him shake, 
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull 
so they carried him home his corpse to wake 
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet 
and laid him out upon the bed 
With a gallon of whisky at his feet and a bottle 
of porter at his head 
 
His friends assembled at the wake; and missus Finnegan 
called for lunch 
First they brought in tay and cake; then pipes, 
tobacco & whisky punch 
Biddy О'Brian began to cry such a nice clean corpse 
did you ever see 
Tim avourneen, why did you die? Arrah hold your gob 
sez Patty Magee 
 
Then Maggie О'Connor took up the job Arrah! Biddy," 
says she, your worng I'm sure 
But Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob 
and left her sprawlin on the flure 
Then the war did soon engage, woman to woman & man to man 
Shillelah-law was all the rage An' a row an' 
a ruction soon began 
 
Then Mickey Moloney raised his head when a noggon 
of whiskey flew at him 
It missed him fallin on the bed The liquor scattered over Tim! 
Tim revives see how he rises Timothy Rising from the bed  
Said whirl yer whiskey around like blazes Todamon deal 
do ye think I'm Dead