paroles de chanson Tim Finnegan's Wake - Tommy Makem , The Clancy Brothers

Tim Finnegan lived in Watling street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd be a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
To rise in the world, he carried a hod
See, he'd sort of tipplin' way
With love for the liquor poor Tim was born
To help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn'
Whack fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake
One morning Tim got rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
Fell from a ladder and he broke his skull
They carried him home, his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a bottle of porter at his head
Whack, fol, de, dah
Now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor, your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth, they told ye lots of fun
At Finnegan's wake