Let grasses grow and waters flow
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In a free and easy way,
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But give me enough of the rare old stuff
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That's made near Galway Bay,
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Come gangers all from Donegal,
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Sligo and Leitrim too,
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Oh, we'll give the slip and we'll take a sip
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Of the rare old Mountain Dew
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Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, al the dal, dal dithery al dee
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Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, dal the dal, dal dithery al dee
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There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill,
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Where the smoke curls up to the sky,
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By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
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That there's poitin, boys, close by.
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For it fills the air with a perfume rare,
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And betwixt both me and you,
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As home we roll, we can drink a bowl,
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Or a bucketful of Mountain Dew
|
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Now learned men as use the pen,
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Have writ the praises high
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Of the rare poitin from Ireland green,
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Distilled from wheat and rye.
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Away with yer pills, it'll cure all ills,
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Be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew,
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So take off your coat and grease your throat
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With a bucketful of Mountain Dew.
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-----------------
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The Rare Ould Mountain Dew
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The Pogues |