Finnegan's Wake

X: 11
T: Finnegan's Wake
O: Ireland 1850s?
M: 2/4
L: 1/8
Z: 2006 John Chambers <jc@trillian.mit.edu>
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K: C
G | "C"E/C/C CC | EF GG | "Dm"A/D/D DC | "G7"DE F>G |
w: Tim Fin-ne-gan lived in Walk-in Street a gent-le-man I-rish might-y odd. He
| "C"GC CC | EF GG/G/ | "F"AA/A/ AG | "G7"A/A/B "C"c>G |
w: had a tongue both rich and sweet and to rise in the world he car-ried a hod. But
| "Am"cc/c/ cd/d/ | "Em"cB AG/G/ | "Am"cc/c/ cd | "Em"cB AB/B/ |
w: Tim had a touch o' the tip-pler's way, with a love of the liq-uor he was born, and to
| "Am"cc cd/d/ | "Em"cB AG/G/ | "F"AA/A/ AG | "G7"AB "C"c2 |]
w: help him on with his work each day, he'd a drop o' the cray-thur ev-'ry morn.
"Chorus"\
[| "Am"EE/E/ ED | EA/A/ AB | "F"cB "C"AG | "G"ED D2 |
w: Whack fol the da now dance to your part-ners, welt the floor, your trot-ters shake.
|  "Am"EE ED | EA AB | "F"cB "C"AG | "G7"A/A/B "C"c |]
w: Is-n't it the truth I tell you? Lots of fun at Fin-ne-gan's Wake!
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W:One mornin' Tim was rather full, his head felt heavy which made him shake.
W:He fell from a ladder and he broke his skull, and they carried him home his corpse to wake.
W:They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet, and laid him out upon the bed,
W:With a gallon of whisky at his feet, and a barrel of porter at his head.
W:    Chorus
W:His friends assembled at the wake, and Mrs Finnegan called for lunch.
W:First they brought in tay and cake, then pipes, tobacco and whisky punch.
W:Biddy O'Brien began to cry, "Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
W:Tim Mavourneen, why did you die?" "Arrah, hold your gob," said Paddy McGhee.
W:    Chorus
W:Then Mattie O'Connor took up the job, "Oh, Biddy," says she,"you're wrong I'm sure."
W:Biddy gave her a belt in the gob, and left her sprawling on the floor.
W:Then the war did soon engage, 'twas woman to woman and man to man,
W:Shelelaigh law was all the rage, and a row and a ruction soon began.
W:    Chorus
W:Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head, when a noggin of whisky flew at him.
W:It missed, and falling on the bed, the liquor scattered over Tim.
W:Tim revives - see how he rises. Timothy rising from the bed,
W:Said "Whirl your whisky around like blazes. Devil take my soul, do you thik I'm dead?"
W:    Chorus

Alternative sources for this tune:

• trillian.mit.edu/~jc/music/abc/song/Finnegans_Wake_CWw/0000

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