The Real Old Mountain Dew

Let grasses grow and waters flow
 in a free and easy way.
 Just give me enough of that fine old stuff
 that's made near Galway Bay.
 And peelers all from Donegal,
 Sligo and Leitrum, too.
 We'll give them the slip and we'll have a sip
 of that real old mountain dew.
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day
 At the foot of the hill there's a neat little still
 where the smoke curls up to the sky.
 From the smoke and the smell you can plainly tell
 there' s poteen brewin' nearby.
 For it fills the air with a perfume rare.
 Betwixt both you and me,
 When home you roll you can take a bowl
 or a bucket of the mountain dew.
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day
 And learned men as use the pen
 have wrote your praises high.
 That sweet poteen from Ireland green,
 distilled from wheat and rye.
 Throw away your pills, it'll cure all ills,
 be you pagan or christian or jew.
 Take off your coat and grease your throat
 with that real old mountain dew.
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day
 Hi the diddly idle um diddly doo idle um, diddly doo rah diddly-i-day