Hills Of Connemara

Gather up the pots and the old tin can
 And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran
 And then run like the devil from the excise man
 Keep the smoke from rising, Barney
 Now keep your eyes well peeled today
 The tall, tall men, they're on their way
 They're searching for the mountain tea
 In the hills of Connemara
 Gather up the pots and the old tin can
 And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran
 And then run like the devil from the excise man
 Keep the smoke from rising, Barney
 A gallon for the butcher and a quart for Tom
 And a bottle for the poor old Father Tom
 To help the poor old dear along
 In the hills of Connemara
 Gather up the pots and the old tin can
 And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran
 And then run like the devil from the excise man
 Keep the smoke from rising, Barney
 Now swing to the left, now swing to the right
 Sure, the excise man can dance all night
 He's drinkin 'up the tea 'til the broad daylight
 In the hills of Connemara
 Gather up the pots and the old tin can
 And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran
 And then run like the devil from the excise man
 Keep the smoke from rising, Barney
 Now, stand your ground, and don't you fall
 The excise men, they're at the wall
 Jesus Christ, they're drinkin' it all
 In the hills of Connemara
 Gather up the pots and the old tin can
 And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran
 And then run like the devil from the excise man
 Keep the smoke from rising, Barney