VERSE 1:
Let [E] the grasses grow and the [A] waters flow, in a [E] free and easy [B] way
But [E] give me enough of the [A] rare old stuff, that's [E] made near [B] Galway [E] Bay
Come [E] gougers all from [E] Donegal, [E] Sligo and Leitrim [C#m] too
And we'll [E] give 'em the slip and we'll [A] take a sip, of the [E] rare old [B] Mountain [E] Dew

CHORUS:
Hi di-[E]-diddly-idle-um, diddly-[A]-doodle-idle-um, diddly-[E]-doo-ri-diddlum-[B]-deh
Hi di-[E]-diddly-idle-um, diddly-[A]-doodle-idle-um, diddly-[E]-doo-ri-[B]-diddlum-[E]-deh

VERSE 2:
At the [E] foot of the hill there's a [A] neat little still, where the [E] smoke curls up to the [B] sky
By the [E] smoke and the smell you can [A] plainly tell, that there's [E] poitín [B] brewing near [E] by
It [E] fills the air with a [E] perfume rare, in-[E]-between both me and [C#m] you
When [E] home you go, you can [A] take a bowl, or a [E] bucket of [B] Mountain [E] Dew

REPEAT CHORUS:

BREAK: [E] [A] [E] [B] / [E] [A] ^[E] ^[B] [E]

VERSE 3:
Now [E] learned men who [A] use the pen, have [E] written your praises [B] high
That [E] sweet poitín from [A] Ireland green, that's [E] made from [B] wheat and [E] rye
Go [E] away with your pills, it'll [E] cure all ills, for a [E] Pagan, Christian or [C#m] Jew
Take [E] off your coat and [A] grease your throat, with a [E] bucket of the [B] Mountain [E] Dew

REPEAT CHORUS:

BREAK: [E] [A] [E] [B] / [E] [A] ^[E] ^[B] [E]

REPEAT VERSE 1:

REPEAT CHORUS: [x2]