Let grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way,
But give me enough of the fine old stuff that's made near Galway Bay,
And policemen all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too,
Oh, we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the rare old Mountain Dew
Chorus
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 smoke curls up to the sky,
By the smoke and the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poitin brewin' nearby.
For it fills the air with an aura rare,
And betwixt both me and you,
As home you troll, you can take a bowl,
Or a bucket of the Mountain Dew
Chorus
Now learned men who use the pen,
Have wrote your praises high
Of the rare poitin from Ireland green,
Distilled from wheat and rye.
Throw away your pills, it'll cure all ills,
Of Pagan, Christian or Jew,
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With the rare old Mountain Dew.
Chorus
