This page is primary dedicated to The Dubliners and Shane MacGowan     
 Music




Rare Old Mountain Dew

Let grasses grow and waters flow
In a free and easy way,
But give me enough of the rare old stuff 
That's made near Galway Bay,
Come gangers all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too,
Oh, we'll give the slip and we'll take a sip 
Of the rare old Mountain Dew

Chorus
Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, al the dal, dal dithery al dee
Hi the dithery al the dal, dal the dal the dithery al, dal the dal, dal dithery al dee

There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill,
Where the smoke curls up to the sky,
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poitin, boys, close by.
For it fills the air with a perfume rare,
And betwixt both me and you,
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl,
Or a bucketful of Mountain Dew

Now learned men as use the pen,
Have writ the praises high
Of the rare poitin from Ireland green,
Distilled from wheat and rye.
Away with yer pills, it'll cure all ills,
Be ye Pagan, Christian or Jew,
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucketful of Mountain Dew.

RODDY McCORLEY
(Ethna Carbery)

See the fleet foot host of men
That speed with faces wan
From farmstead and from fisher's cot
Along the bank of Bann
They come with vengeance in their eyes
Too late, too late are they
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today

Up the narrow street he steps
Smiling, proud and young
About the hemp rope on his neck
The golden ringlets clung
There was never a tear in his blue eyes
Both sad and bright are they
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today

When he last stepped up that street
His shining pike in hand
Behind him marched in grim array
A stalwart, earnest band
For Antrim town, for Antrim town
He led them to the fray
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today

There was never a one of all your dead
More bravely fell in fray
Than he who marches to his fate
On the bridge of Toome today
True to the last, true to the last
He treads the upward way
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today

 

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                                                   The lyrics