Paddy Goes To Holyhead Real Ould Mountain Dew
Let grasses grow and the waters flow, in a free and easy way But give me enough of the rare ould stuff, that´s made near Galway Bay Ye peelers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim, too Oh, we´ll give the slip and we´ll take a sip, of the rare old Mountain Dew
There´s a neat little still at the foot of the hill, where the smoke curls up to the sky By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell that there´s poitin, boys, close by For it fills the air with odor rare, and betwixt both me and you When home you roll, you can drink a bowl, or a bucket of the Mountain Dew
Now learned men who used the pen, who wrote the praises high Of the rare poitin from Ireland green, distilled from wheat and rye Away with yer pills, it´ll cure all ills, be ye Pagan, Christian, Jew So take off your coat and free your throat, with the real ould Mountain Dew
Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, al the dal, dal dithery al dee Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, dal the dal, dal dithery al dee
