Here you are FINNEGAN's WAKE:

FINNEGAN'S WAKE

Ah Tim Finnegan lived in Watkins Street
A gentleman Irish might odd
He had a broad brogue rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod
Oh but Tim had a bit of a tippler's way
With a lump of liquor he was born
And to send the monies way each day
He'd drop of the creator every morn

Chorus
Whack for the dah will you dance to your partners
Around the floor your trotters shake
Isn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake

No one morning Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy which made him shake
He fell of the ladder and he broke his skull
Then they carried him home his corpse to wake
They laid him out upon the bed
With a bundle of whiskey at his feet
And a barrell of porter at his head

Chorus

And his friend assembled at the wake
And Mrs Finnegan called for lunch
Well first she brought them tay and cake
Then piped tobacco and brandy punch
The widow Malone began to cry
Oh such lovely corpse did ye's ever see
Musha Tim, mavourneen why did you die?
Will you hold your gob said Molly Magee

Chorus

Ah well Mary Murphy took up the job
Ah Biddie, says she, You're wrong I'm sure
Well Biddie fetched her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
And a civil war did then engage
'Twas woman to woman and man to man
Sure laly law was all the rage
And a row and eruption it soon began

Chorus

Ah Tim Moloney ducked his head
When a bottle of whiskey flew at him
He ducked and landing on the bed
The Whiskey scatters over Tim
Ah, be daddy a boys and see how he rises
Tim Finnegan risin in the bed
Saying twirl your whiskey around like blazes
By the thundering Jaysus do you think I'm dead

Chorus

How is the ould one? ... - Game ball ...

(Recorded by The Dubliners)