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Братья Клэнси и Л.Киллен - Роса Гор | Текст песни

Let 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 policemen all from Donegal,Sligo and Leitrim too,
Oh, we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the rare old Mountain Dew

Chorus:

Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um,diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh
Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um,diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh

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
That there's poitin brewin’ nearby.
For it fills the air with an odour rare,
And betwixt both me and you,
When home you stroll, you can take a bowl,
Or a bucket of the Mountain Dew

Chorus

No learned men who use the pen,
Have wrote your praises high
Of the sweet poitin from Ireland green,
Distilled from wheat and rye.
So throw away your pills, it'll cure all ills,
Be you Pagan, Christian or Jew,
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With the rare old Mountain Dew.

Chorus

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