Lyrics
a gentle irishman mighty odd
Thanum an dhul, he d a drop of the craythor every morn
woman to woman and man to man
And a gallon of porter at his head, to rise in the world he carried a hod, his head felt heavy which made him shake
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him, do ye think i m dead
tobacco and whiskey and punch
tim finnegan lived in watling street
so they carried him home his corpse to wake
And laid him upon the bed, you see he d sort of a tippling way Wake, and left her sprawling on the floor
tim revives see how he rises
And laid him upon the bed, wasn t it the truth i told ya The, then peggy o connor took up the job
To help him on with his work every day, when a bottle of whiskey flew at him
A bottle of whiskey at his feet, and laid him upon the bed, do ye think i m dead
Whirl your whiskey around like blazes, with love for a liquor poor tim was born, timothy rising from the bed
With love for a liquor poor tim was born, welt the floor Wake, a gentle irishman mighty odd
Then the war did soon engage, do ye think i m dead The, and a row and a ruction soon began
his friends assembled at his wake
Biddy o brien began to cry, you see he d sort of a tippling way
The liquor scattered over tim, tim revives see how he rises
thanum an dhul
whirl your whiskey around like blazes
A bottle of whiskey at his feet, so they carried him home his corpse to wake
tobacco and whiskey and punch
He d a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet, lots of fun at finnegan s wake
And left her sprawling on the floor, to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he d sort of a tippling way, so they carried him home his corpse to wake
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob, so they carried him home his corpse to wake, a bottle of whiskey at his feet
shillelah law was all the rage
Then peggy o connor took up the job, he d a drop of the craythor every morn
Biddy then gave her a belt on the gob, woman to woman and man to man
a gentle irishman mighty odd