Lyrics

Let the grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the fine old stuff that's made near Galway Bay
And Policeman all, from Donegal, Sligo and Lietrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip of the real old Mountain Dew

Hi the diddle y I dill um, diddle y doodle I dill um,
Diddle y doo ri diddle y di day
Hi the diddle y I dill um, diddle y doodle I dill um,
Diddle y doo ri diddle y di day

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 there's poteen brewing nearby
For it fills the air with odor rare and betwixt both me and you
When home you stroll you can take a bowl or a bucket of the mountain dew

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 your coat and grease your throat with the real old mountain dew