My Lord Bishop,
Reverend Fathers,
Reverend Mothers,
Your Excellencies,
My Lord Mayor,
Ladies and Gentlemen,
and fellow peasants.
Ah, Tim Finnegan lived in a walking street,
A gentleman Irish, mighty odd.
Well, he had a brogue boat, rich and sweet,
And to rise in the world he carried a heart.
Ah, but Tim had a bit of a tibble as a wife,
With a love of the liquor he was born,
And to send the monies away each day,
The drop of the crate,
the rub of the morn.
Wack full of dabble,
you danced to your partners,
Around the floor with a trotter shake,
Pizza,
hit and flute,
I tell you,
Lots of fun,
and Finnegan's awake.
Ah,
one morning Tim was rather full,
His head felt heavy which made him shake,
He fell off the ladder and he broke his skull,
Then 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 bottle of whiskey on his feet,
And a bottle of powder on his head.
Wack full of dabble,
you danced to your partners,
Around the floor with a trotter shake,
Pizza,
hit and flute,
I tell you,
Lots of fun,
and Finnegan's awake.
Well, his friends assembled at the wake,
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch.
Well, first she brought them tea and cake,
Then pipes, the becker, and brandy punch,
Then the widow Malone began to cry,
Such a lovely corpse did she never see,
And was it Tim of Mourne in Hawaii did he die,
Well, you howled, you grubbed his muddy mackie.
Wack full of dabble,
you danced to your partners,
Around the floor with a trotter shake,
Pizza,
hit and flute,
I tell you,
Lots of fun,
and Finnegan's awake.
Well, Mary Murphy took up the job,
A bitty sissy, or wrong, I'm sure,
Well, a bitty fetch and a belt in the gob,
And left us sprawling on the floor,
Well, civil war did then engage,
Woman to woman and man to man,
Shall daily allow us all to rage,
And a row and a rucksian soon began.
Wack full of dabble,
you danced to your partners,
Around the floor with a trotter shake,
Pizza,
hit and flute,
I tell you,
Lots of fun,
and Finnegan's awake.
Oh, well, Tim Malone he ducked his hat,
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him,
He ducked and landed on the bed,
The whiskey scatters over Tim,
I'll be daddy of wives and see how he rises,
Tim Finnegan rising in the bat,
Saying,
Twiddle you whiskey around like blazes,
Beat a ton of them jays in the tin can,
Wack full of dabble,
you danced to your partners,
Around the floor with a trotter shake,
Pizza,
hit and flute,
I tell you,
Lots of fun,
and Finnegan's awake.