In the folk tradition, I present my version of an old Irish folksong
Sung to this wonderful Irish tune (Tim Finnegan's Wake):
https://www.flutetunes.com/tunes.php?id=434
Finicum lived on a western ranch, a crazy coot and mighty dumb
He claimed he owned the public land and stood his ground with an old shotgun
You see he'd a sort of a rightwing way with a sense of entitlement he was born
To help him on his way each day, he'd ruffle some feathers every morn
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the floor yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of kooks at Finicum's Wake
One morning Finicum full of bull, his head felt heavy which made him shake
Charged the cops and he lost his life, and they carried him home his corpse to wake
Rolled him up in a nice blue tarp, and laid him out upon the bed
The Constitution at his feet and a bunch of snacks at his head
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the floor yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of kooks at Finicum's Wake
His friends assembled at the wake, and Mrs Finicum called for lunch
First she brought in teaparty cake, then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Cliven Bundy began to cry, "Such a nice clean corpse, did you ever see,
Le Voy my boy, why did you die? Now Harney County will never be free!"
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the floor yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of kooks at Finicum's Wake
Then Fluffy Unicorn took up the cry "Bundy" says he "you're wrong, I'm sure"
Bundy gave him a belt in the gob and left him sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage, t'was hand to hand and man to man
Militia law was all the rage and a row and a ruction soon began.
Whack fol the dah now dance to yer partner around the floor yer trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I told you? Lots of kooks at Finicum's Wake.
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