Let grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the fine ould stuff that's made
near Galway Bay
And policemen all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip of the real
old mountain dew
Chorus:
Hi-the-diddley-I-dill-dum, diddley-doodle-I-dill-um,
diddley- doo-ri-diddley-di-day
Hi-the-diddley-I-dill-um, diddley-doo-dill-I-dill-um,
diddley- doo-ri-diddley-di-day
At the foot of the hill, there's a neat little still,
with the smoke curling up to the sky
By the smoke and the smell, you can painly tell, that
there's poteen brewing nearby
For it fills the air with odour rare and betwixt both me
and you
When home you stroll, 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
That sweet poteen from Ireland green, distilled from
wheat and rye
Throw away your pills, it will cure all ills of pagan,
christian or jew
Take off you coat and grease your throat with the real
old mountain dew
Chorus