The Irish Rovers
Rare Ould Mountain Dew
Let grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the fine old stuff that's brewed near Galway Bay
For policemen all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the rare old Mountain Dew
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
At the foot of the hill there's a neat little still
Where the smokе curls up to the sky
By the smoke and thе smell you can plainly tell
That there's poitin brewin' nearby
For it fills the air with a perfume rare
To betwixt both me and you
While home we stroll, we can take a bowl
Or a bucket of the Mountain Dew
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Now the glass that cheers is sweet
And clear like the honey from the bee
There's nothing finer or this sublime
You can set your senses free
And your cares or woes all away they'll
Flow when you try a drop or two
Be it day or night you can take delight
In the rare old Mountain Dew
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Now learned men who use the pen
Have wrote the praises high
Of the sweet poitin from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Put away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With the dear old Mountain Dew
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh