Well, this would seem to be an appropriate song for the occasion. Sorry there are a few words I'm not sure of. Anybody who can correct them feel free to do so. Glad to hear the rumours are unfounded.

THE FUNERAL, traditional as sung by Alistair Brown

Well, the other night I got an invitation to a funeral,
But to me disappointment, the fellow didn't die.
He said that he was sorry for having disappointed us,
And seeing he apologized, we let the thing go by.
To ease our disappointment, he took us out and treated us.
He bought a quart of porter for a company of ten.
When somebody asked him whose money he was squandering,
The fellow took his wallet out, we didn't ask again.

Well, we bought a concertina for to keep up the high hilarity,
But none of us could play it, though we tried our best and worst;
And we made an awful noise on it, and if it's any benefit,
We played the thing so carefully that all the bellows burst.
We bought a boiled potato to fix the concertina with,
When someone hit Maloney with the carcase of a cat.
He bundled up his whiskers and he read us out the riot act,
And swore that he'd put two heads on the divil that done that.

Well, the owner of the beer shop, when he saw us a rioting,
He ordered us to get out, ah, but that we all refused;,
So he whistled up some locals that were standing round the corner
And for ten or fifteen minutes, we were bodily abused.
Well, when we left the beer shop and down the road we started.
A bunch of hungry urchins, they pelted us with mud.
We ordered them to chuck it. They said that they were doing that,
And then they all ran off and they left us where we stood.

Well, the next thing we saw was a bunch of Salvationists.
They rifled all our pockets and they asked us were we saved.
Poor Little John McGinty got escorted to the station house
For asking a policeman if his appetite was shaved.
Well, all to free McGinty, we all took off our undershirts
And down to the pawnshop we marched the blooming lot.
We told them that we only wanted ten and six on them.
"Enough already on them" was the answer that we got.

Well, we got the ten and sixpence all for to free McGinty with.
Bad luck to the beer shop we met along the way.
Of course, we couldn't pass it without having some refreshment,
And we squandered every penny of the fine we had to pay.
The beer it being in us, the sense it soon was out of us,
And for a bit of rioting we quickly did repair.
We battled one another till we weren't worth three ha'pence.
Ye'd a carpet on the floor with all the skin and hair.

Now McGinty hit McGantsy and McGansty hit some other man,
And any man hit any man against who he had a spite;
And poor little McNamara who was sitting doing nothing
Got a kick that broke his jawbone for not indulging in the fight.
We fought away like Turks till the police separated us
And took us to the station with broken noses and black eyes.
I got sixty days in jail. To me it was a lesson:
I will go no more to funerals until the fellow dies.