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Thomas sein Abendland

Was so wichtig ist zwischen Vatikan und Niederrhein

  • Alle Rechtschreibefehler sind beabsichtigt und tragen zur allgemeinen Erheiterung der Leserschaft bei!
  • C+M+B*2021*


    Eine hommage

    Scipio erwähnt diesen Beitrag in dem der Flüssigkeitsmissionarische Sprecher des Vatikans (oder so ähnlich - is´ja schließlich Karneval!) sich zum Fantakonsum des Papstes äußert. Obwohl der Sprecher seine Rolle runterspielen will, muß man doch nicht James Joyce sein, um beim Namen stutzig zu werden: Der Mensch heißt Tim Finigan!

    Da war doch was?..............

    Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin' 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.
    Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way
    With a love of for the liquor poor Tim was born
    And to help him on with his work each day
    He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.

    Whack fol the darn O, dance to your partner
    Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;
    Wasn't it the truth I told you
    Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!

    One mornin' Tim felt rather full
    His head was heavy which made him shake;
    He fell from the ladder and 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,
    A gallon of whiskey at his feet
    And a barrel of porter at his head.

    His friends assembled at the wake
    And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch,
    First they brought in tay and cake
    Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
    Biddy O'Brien began to cry
    "Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see?
    "O Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
    Arragh, hold your gob said Paddy McGhee!

    Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
    "O Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
    Biddy she gave her a belt in the gob
    And left her sprawlin' on the floor.
    And then the war did soon engage
    'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
    Shillelagh law was all the rage
    And a row and a ruction soon began.

    Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
    When a noggin of whiskey flew at him,
    It missed, and falling on the bed
    The liquor scattered over Tim!
    The corpse revives! See how he raises!
    Timothy rising from the bed,
    Says,"Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
    Thanum an Dhul! Do you thunk I'm dead?"

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