X:95 T:Rare Old Mountain Dew T:Mountain Dew R:song C:Samuel Lover (1797-1868) D:The Dubliners Z:id:hn-song-95 M:2/4 L:1/8 Q:1/4=120 K:D A/A/ | BA FD/D/ | ED B,A,/B,/ | DF ED | A3 A | BA/A/ FD/D/ | ED B,A, | DF EE | D3 A | BA DA | BA D2 | BA/A/ FD | B,3 A | BA/A/ FD/D/ | ED B,A,/B,/ | DF EE | D3 || A/A/ | B/c/B/A/ FD/D/ | E/F/E/D/ B,A,/B,/ | DF ED | A3 A/A/ | B/c/B/A/ FD/D/ | E/F/E/D/ B,A,/B,/ | DF E/D/E | D3 || W:Let the grasses grow and the waters flow in a free and easy way W:But give me enough of the rare old stuff that's made near Galway Bay W:Come gaugers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too W:We'll give them a slip as we'll take a sip of the rare old mountain dew. W: W:Chorus (lilted) W: W:There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill where the smoke curls up to the sky W:By the whiff of the smell you can plainly tell there is poteen, boys, close by! W:Oh, it fills the air with a perfume rare and betwixt both me and you W:As home we roll we'll take a bowl or a bucket-full of mountain dew. W: W:Chorus W: W:Now learned men that use the pen have writ the praises high W:Of the sweet poteen from Ireland green distilled from wheat and rye. W:Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills - be you pagan, Christian or Jew W:So take off your coat and grease your throat with the rare old mountain dew. W: W:Chorus