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