Autoscroll
1 Column 
Text size
Transpose 0
Orthodox Celts "Rare Old Mountain Drew" originaly by The Dubliners
DLet grasses grow, anGd waters flow, iDn a free and easy wayA, DBut give me enough of theG fine old stuff thDat's made nAear Galway BDay DOh peelers all, from DoneDgal, Galway and Etrim tooBm, DWe'll give them the slip Gand we'll take a sip of the Drare old mAountain dDew
D G D A D G D G At the foot of the hill there's a neat little still, where the smoke curles up to the sky, By the smoke and the smell you can plainly tell that there's whisky brewing nearby For it fills the air with odor rare, and betwixt both me and you, When home you roll you can take a bowl and a bucket full of mountain dew Now learned men who use the pen, who've wrote your praises high, This sweet "pocheen" from Ireland's green, distilled from wheat and rye Throw away your pills, it'll cure all ills of Pagan, Christian and Jew Take off your and free your throat with the rare old mountain dew