*A low singing can be heard in the distance*
Hii a deeddle leedle dum, hia deedle liddle dum
hia do di dye diddle iii ehhhhh.
Hiiaa deeddle leedle dum, hiia deedle liddle dum,
hia do di deedle hi ehhhh.
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
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
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 poteen 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 poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.
Originally posted by PrinceofBladeswhos there!?
*A low singing can be heard in the distance*Hii a deeddle leedle dum, hia deedle liddle dum
hia do di dye diddle iii ehhhhh.
Hiiaa deeddle leedle dum, hiia deedle liddle dum,
hia do di deedle hi ehhhh.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
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 dewThere'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 poteen 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 dewNow learned men as use the pen have writ' the praises high
Of the rare poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.
Originally posted by PrinceofBlades
*looks towards Bartman, throughs a circular blade and cuts one of the supports to the hammock causing Bart to fall. Smile widly* They call me the imp of mischief. But you can call me Rolph...
*falls to ground, hitting my head, gets back on feet and fixes it* *pulls out pike and points it at Rolph threateningly* *lays back in hammock, still with pike in hand*