Misc Unsigned Bands - Darby ogill - finnegans wake

Tim ^CFinnegan lived in W^Amalkin Street; a ^Fgentleman - Irish, mighty ^Godd He’d a ^Cbeautiful brogue so rich and ^Amsweet; and to ^Frise in the world he ^Gcarried a ^Chod Now ^CTim had a sort of a ^Amtipplin’ way; with the ^Clove of the liqueur poor ^AmTim was born And to ^Chelp him on with his ^Amway each day he’d a ^Fdrop of the craythur ^Gevery ^Cmorn

^CWack fol the dol now ^Amdance to yer partner, ^Fwelt the floor, your ^Gtrotters shake ^CWasn’t it the ^Amtruth that I told ye: ^Flots o’ fun at ^GFinnegan’s ^Cwake One ^Cmornin’ Tim was ^Amrather full. His^F head felt heavy which ^Gmade him shake He ^Cfell off the ladder and ^Ambroke his skull and they ^Fcarried him home his ^Gcorpse to ^Cwake They^C rolled him up in a nice clean ^Amsheet and l^Caid him out upon the ^Ambed With a ^Cbottle of whiskey ^Amat his feet and a g^Fallon of porter ^Gat his ^Chead

^CWack fol the dol now ^Amdance to yer partner, ^Fwelt the floor, your ^Gtrotters shake ^CWasn’t it the ^Amtruth that I told ye: ^Flots o’ fun at ^GFinnegan’s ^Cwake His ^Cfriends assembled at the ^Amwake, and the ^Fwidow Finnegan called for ^Glunch ^CFirst she brought in ^Amtea and cakes, then pi^Fpes, tobacco and ^Gwhiskey ^Cpunch ^CBiddy O’Brien began to ^Amcry: Such a ^Cnice clean corpse did you ever ^Amsee ^CTim, Mavourneen, ^Amwhy did ye die? ^FShut yer gob said ^GPaddy ^CMcGee

^CWack fol the dol now ^Amdance to yer partner, ^Fwelt the floor, your ^Gtrotters shake ^CWasn’t it the ^Amtruth that I told ye: ^Flots o’ fun at ^GFinnegan’s ^Cwake Then ^CMaggie O’Connor took up the ^Amjob O ^FBiddy, says she, you’re wrong I’m ^Gsure Then ^CBiddy fetched her a ^Ambelt in the gob and ^Fleft her sprawlin’ ^Gon the ^Cfloor ^CCivil war did then ^Amengage; ‘twas w^Coman to woman and ^Amman to man Shele^Claigh law was ^Amall the rage and a ^Frow and a ruction ^Gsoon ^Cbegan

^CWack fol the dol now ^Amdance to yer partner, ^Fwelt the floor, your ^Gtrotters shake ^CWasn’t it the ^Amtruth that I told ye: ^Flots o’ fun at ^GFinnegan’s ^Cwake Then ^CMickey Maloney ducked his ^Amhead as a ^Fbottle of whiskey flew at ^Ghim It ^Cmissed, and landing ^Amon the bed, the ^Fwhiskey scattered ^Gover ^CTim ^CTim revived, be damned he ^Amrises; ^CFinnegan risin’ from the ^Ambed Sayin’ ^CWhirl yer whiskey around like ^Amblazes; thunder and ^FJesus, do ye ^Gthink I’m ^Cdead

^CWack fol the dol now ^Amdance to yer partner, ^Fwelt the floor, your ^Gtrotters shake ^CWasn’t it the ^Amtruth that I told ye: ^Flots o’ fun at ^GFinnegan’s ^Cwake