Tim Finegan's Wake
Tommy Makem Lyrics


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Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way
With the love of the liquor, poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Chorus:
Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake

One mornin' Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
And 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 whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head

His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"
"Arrah hold your gob" said Paddy McGee

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Biddy," says she "you're wrong I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage
It was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began

Then Mickey Maloney raised his head
When a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed and falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises
Timothy rising from the bed




Said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"

Overall Meaning

The song "Tim Finnegan's Wake" by Tommy Makem tells a peculiar story about an Irish man named Tim Finnegan, who was known for being fond of liquor. Tim worked as a hod carrier and was trying hard to improve his life. One day, while being completely drunk, he falls off his ladder and breaks his skull. His friends wrap him in a clean sheet and lay him on the bed with a barrel of porter at his head and a gallon of whiskey at his feet. During the wake, his friends come to pay their respects, and as the hours go by, they become increasingly drunk and disorderly. Soon, a fight breaks out among the mourners, and a bucket of whiskey hits Tim's lifeless body. As a result, Tim rises up from the bed and demands more whiskey, stating that he is not dead.


The lyrics use language that captures the heart of Irish culture, such as the reference to the brogue that Tim spoke, which is a thick Irish accent marked by a particular intonation. The words also use phrases specific to the Irish, such as "craythur," which means the water of life (whiskey). The chorus "Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partner" is a call for people to dance to the lively Irish music.


Line by Line Meaning

Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
Tim Finnegan resided on Walkin Street


A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He was an affable, but peculiar Irishman


He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
He possessed a mellifluous, charming Irish accent


And to rise in the world he carried a hod
To improve his livelihood, he transported a hod for a living


You see he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way
His mannerisms had a distinctive, raffish quality


With the love of the liquor, poor Tim was born
His affinity for alcohol was innate


And to help him on with his work each day
To assist him with his daily duties


He'd a drop of the craythur every morn
He indulged in a small portion of whiskey every morning


Chorus:
Chorus


Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partner
An exhortation to dance with your partner


Welt the floor your trotters shake
Stamp your feet and shake your ankles


Wasn't it the truth I tell you
True, I tell you


Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake
There was great entertainment at Finnegan's wake


One mornin' Tim was rather full
One morning, Tim was quite drunk


His head felt heavy, which made him shake
He felt a weighty sensation from his head which caused him to tremble


He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
He tumbled from a scaffold and suffered head injury


And they carried him home his corpse to wake
They brought his dead body home to mourn


They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
They wrapped him in a tidy bedsheet


And laid him out upon the bed
And placed him on his bed


With a gallon of whiskey at his feet
With a container of whiskey beside his legs


And a barrel of porter at his head
And a large keg of beer near his head


His friends assembled at the wake
His friends arrived at his wake


And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
Mrs. Finnegan requested for lunch to be served


First they brought in tay and cake
Initially, they brought tea and cake


Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
After that, they provided smoking pipes, tobacco and a strong whiskey drink


Biddy O'Brien began to cry
Biddy O'Brien started weeping


"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
"Did you ever see such a clean corpse?


Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"
"Tim, my darling, why did you leave us?"


"Arrah hold your gob" said Paddy McGee
"Hold your tongue", Paddy McGee retorted


Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
Then, Maggie O'Connor stepped in


"O Biddy," says she "you're wrong I'm sure"
"Oh Biddy," she said, "you're mistaken, I'm certain of it"


Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
Biddy punched her in the mouth


And left her sprawling on the floor
And left her lying on the floor


Then the war did soon engage
Then, more disputes occurred


It was woman to woman and man to man
Between several women and men


Shillelagh law was all the rage
They wielded shillelaghs as weapons


And a row and a ruction soon began
And a rowdy fight instantly began


Then Mickey Maloney raised his head
Mickey Maloney spoke up


When a bucket of whiskey flew at him
A bucket of whiskey was hurled at him


It missed and falling on the bed
It missed and landed on the bed


The liquor scattered over Tim
The alcohol was spilled all over Tim


Tim revives, see how he rises
Tim came back to life, see how he stood up


Timothy rising from the bed
Timothy stood up from the bed


Said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
He said, "Shake the whiskey around like crazy


Thundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"
My goodness, do you think I'm dead?"




Lyrics © O/B/O APRA AMCOS
Written by: LIAM CLANCY, PAT CLANCY, TOM CLANCY

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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