歌曲 | Finnegan's Wake |
歌手 | The Clancy Brothers |
专辑 | Best Of The Vanguard Years |
作词 : Traditional | |
Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street, | |
A gentle Irishman -- mighty odd | |
He'd a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet, | |
And to rise in the world he carried a hod, | |
But Tim he'd sort of a tipplin way: | |
With love for the liquor he was born, | |
And to help him on with his work each day, | |
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn' | |
Chorus: | |
Whack fol-de-dah | |
Will ye dance to your partner, | |
Welt the floor, | |
Your trotters shake | |
Wasn't it the truth | |
I told ye, lots of fun at Finnegan's wake | |
One morning Tim got rather full, | |
His head felt heavy, | |
Which made him shake, | |
He fell from a 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 bucket of whiskey at his feet, | |
And a bottle of porter at his head | |
Chorus | |
His friends assembled at the wake | |
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch | |
First she brought in tea and cake | |
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch | |
Biddy O'Brien began to cry, | |
"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see? | |
Ah Tim mavourneen why did ye die"? | |
"Arrah hold your gob!" | |
Said Patty Magee | |
Chorus | |
Then Maggie O'connor took up the job | |
"Arrah!" Biddy says she "ye're wrong I'm sure", | |
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob | |
And she left her sprawling on the floor, | |
Then civil war did soon engage | |
Twas woman to woman and man to man | |
Shillelah-law was all the rage, | |
An a row and a ruction soon began | |
Chorus | |
Then Mickey Maloney raised his head | |
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him, | |
It missed him falling on the bed, | |
The liquor scattered over Tim, | |
Be gob he revives, | |
See how he rises, | |
Finnegan rising from the bed | |
Says, "Whirl your whiskey 'round like blazes Thanum o'n Dhoul, | |
Do ye think I'm dead!" |
zuò cí : Traditional | |
Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street, | |
A gentle Irishman mighty odd | |
He' d a beautiful brogue both rich and sweet, | |
And to rise in the world he carried a hod, | |
But Tim he' d sort of a tipplin way: | |
With love for the liquor he was born, | |
And to help him on with his work each day, | |
He' d a drop of the craythur every morn' | |
Chorus: | |
Whack foldedah | |
Will ye dance to your partner, | |
Welt the floor, | |
Your trotters shake | |
Wasn' t it the truth | |
I told ye, lots of fun at Finnegan' s wake | |
One morning Tim got rather full, | |
His head felt heavy, | |
Which made him shake, | |
He fell from a 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 bucket of whiskey at his feet, | |
And a bottle of porter at his head | |
Chorus | |
His friends assembled at the wake | |
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch | |
First she brought in tea and cake | |
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch | |
Biddy O' Brien began to cry, | |
" Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see? | |
Ah Tim mavourneen why did ye die"? | |
" Arrah hold your gob!" | |
Said Patty Magee | |
Chorus | |
Then Maggie O' connor took up the job | |
" Arrah!" Biddy says she " ye' re wrong I' m sure", | |
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob | |
And she left her sprawling on the floor, | |
Then civil war did soon engage | |
Twas woman to woman and man to man | |
Shillelahlaw was all the rage, | |
An a row and a ruction soon began | |
Chorus | |
Then Mickey Maloney raised his head | |
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him, | |
It missed him falling on the bed, | |
The liquor scattered over Tim, | |
Be gob he revives, | |
See how he rises, | |
Finnegan rising from the bed | |
Says, " Whirl your whiskey ' round like blazes Thanum o' n Dhoul, | |
Do ye think I' m dead!" |