Hi the diddly eyedle-dum, diddly doodle eyedle-dum diddly do-rye diddly di-day

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

We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip of the real old mountain dew.

Hi the diddly eyedle-dum, diddly doodle eyedle-dum diddly do-rye diddly 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 that there's poitín brewing nearby.

It fills the air with odour rare that betwixt both me and you

When home you stroll, you can take a bowl or a bucket of the mountain dew.

Hi the diddly eyedle-dum, diddly doodle eyedle-dum diddly do-rye diddly di-day

Now, learned men who use the pen have wrote your praises high

That sweet poitín from Ireland green, distilled from wheat and rye.

Throw away your pills, it'll cure all ills, be you pagan or Christian or Jew

Take off your coat and grease your throat with the real old mountain dew.

Hi the diddly eyedle-dum, diddly doodle eyedle-dum diddly do-rye diddly di-day

Mountain Dew

The Fógues