Rare Old Mountain Dew - Party Buzz

let the grasses grow

and the waters flow in a free and easy way

but give me enough of the rare old stuff

that’s made near galway bay

come gangers all from donegal

sligo and leitrim too

oh we’ll give em a 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 smoke curls up to the sky

by the smoke and the smell you can plainly tell

that there’s poitin brewing 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

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

on the banks of the roses me love and I sat down

and I took out me fiddle for to play me love a tune

and in the middle of the tune-o she sighed and she said

oro johnny, lovely johnny don’t ya leave me

when I was a young man I heard me father say

that he’d rather see me dead and buried in the clay

sooner than be married to any runaway

by the lovely sweet banks of the roses

on the banks of the roses me love and I sat down

and I took out me fiddle for to play me love a tune

and in the middle of the tune-o she sighed and she said

oro johnny, lovely johnny don’t ya leave me

as down the glen came mcalpines men

with their shovels slung behind them

twas in the pub they drank the sub

and up in the spike you’ll find them

they sweated blood and they washed down mud

with pints and quarts of beer

and now we’re on the road again

with mcalpines fusiliers

I stripped to the skin with darky flynn

way down upon the isle of grain

with the horseface toole then I knew the rule

no money if you stop for rain

mcalpines god was a well filled hod

your shoulders cut to bits and seared

and woe to he who to looks for tea

with mcalpines fusiliers

gather up the pots and the old tin cans

the mash the corn the barley and the bran

run like the devil from the excise man

keep the smoke from rising barney

keep your eyes well peeled today

the excise men are on their way

searching for the mountain tay

in the hills of connemara

gather up the pots and the old tin cans

the mash the corn the barley and the bran

run like the devil from the excise man

keep the smoke from rising barney

a gallon for the butcher and a quart for john

and a bottle for old father tom

just to help the poor old dear along

in the hills of connemara

gather up the pots and the old tin cans

the mash the corn the barley and the bran

run like the devil from the excise man

keep the smoke from rising barney

stand your ground, for it’s too late

the excise men are at the gate

glory be to paddy but they’re drinking it straight

in the hills of connemara

gather up the pots and the old tin cans

the mash the corn the barley and the bran

run like the devil from the excise man

keep the smoke from rising barney