Had to view this after hearing Pogues/Kirsty MacColl's Fairytale of New York that references this in the opening lyrics while the song's male character is in the drunk tank.
@daisypeters3216. I loved your comment. I am Brazilian but I love Irish people, the Pogues, and of course The Dubliners. Yes,, Ronnie Drew was Great. !!!!! 🎶🎶🎶🎶🎶♩♩
It's New Year's Eve 2021 - I am an avid Pogues fan so I had to finally source the song referenced in Fairytale of New York- couldn't make out the lyrics BUT as a recovering addict, use moderation my friend- oh, I miss that warm buzz or a gin and tonic on an empty stomach esp on a cold evening or Guiness at the folk club...but the arthritis from falls which broke a wrist, a thumb, a few ribs- is it worth it? No. The pain, when you are trying to sleep requires opiates, a vicious cycle...just dig the music not the proverbial grave. My New Year's Eve consists and this sadly is true of going to the funeral home to cremate my mom, she was 98 and unrecognizable- dementia and a wish to die so she simply stopped eating- thus I am playing Irish wake rousing irreverent music! The Pogues! Keep safe and healthy, wear your mask and don't drive- May 2022 be a Great Year for You and Yours. Namaste from Snowless Ontario
I've known this tune for years as Why Does The Sunshine (The Sun Is A Mass Of Incandescent Gas) and it wasn't until I decided to look it up after reading The Fairytale New York that I discovered it was one and the same
Oh, let the grasses grow and the waters flow, In a free and easy way. But give me enough of the rare old stuff, That’s made near Galway Bay. Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too, And we’ll give ’em a slip and we’ll take a sip, Of the rare old mountain dew. Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey. 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 poitín, 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. Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey, Now that learned man has used the pen, Have written the praises high, Of the rare poitín 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. Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum, Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey.
Me too :D I would never guess that it had such a difficult chorus! -Thilia didly dom Skilia didly dom Skiliama lid lom day Thilia didly dom Skilia didly dom Skiliama lid lom day- that's my rough phonetic version :D
Oh let the snowflakes fall and the trees grow tall In a free and easy way And the choirs sing and the bells do ring Out for Christmas Day I’ll see you there in the village square Come down everyone do And it’s with my heart that I can start saying, “Merry Christmas to you!” Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Up at the North Pole where it’s bitter cold Santa readies up his sleigh For he is off to do his rounds He’ll be home for Christmas Day He says “Goodbye!” as he leaves for the sky The presents now are due And when morning comes by the sound of drums I can say “Merry Christmas to you!” Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Now it’s time to rise and shine And greet Christmas Day We’ll open up our presents first And go for a stroll along the bay We’ll be walking there, taking in the sea air Take a deep breath do Then home we roll as the bell does toll With a “Merry Christmas to you!” Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Thiddle i ay di diddle dum thiddle i ay di diddle dum Thiddle i ay di diddle dum rum a dum dey Repeat Verse 1
… Let grasses and waters flow in a free and easy way, But give me enough of the rare old stuff that's brewed near Galway Bay, Come policemen all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too, Oh, we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip Of the rare old Mountain Dew … Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh Hi di-diddly-idle-um, diddly-doodle-idle-um, diddly-doo-ri-diddlum-deh … 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 poitin brewin' nearby. For it fills the air with a perfume rare, And betwixt both me and you, As home we troll, we can take a bowl, Or a bucket of the Mountain Dew … Now learned men who use the pen, Have sung the praises high Of the rare poitin from Ireland green, Distilled from wheat and rye. Put 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. This performance does change a word or two though.
69ers a bar in bham 1985...upstairs and they played this tune first time I saw any cycle tramp nomads dancing....thought The floor was going through......
Oh, let grasses grow and the waters flow in a free and easy way, But give me enough of the rare old stuff that's made near Galway Bay, Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too, Oh, we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip Of the rare old Mountain Dew Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Theres a neat little still at the foot of the hill, Where the smoke curls up to the sky, By a whiff and the smell you can plainly tell That there's poitin brewin' nearby. For it fills the air with a perfume rare, And betwixt both me and you, As home we roll, we can take a bowl, Or a bucket of the Mountain Dew Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Now learned men who use the pen, Have written the praises high Of the rare poitin from Ireland green, Distilled from wheat and rye. Put 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 full of Mountain Dew. Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Oh, let grasses grow and the waters flow in a free and easy way, But give me enough of the rare old stuff that's made near Galway Bay, Come gougers all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too, Oh, we'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip Of the rare old Mountain Dew Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-didle-um, Skiddly idle-um-didle-um-deh!
@imkingofmymind It really isn't that hard. I play guitar, and a friend of mine had a type of banjo: Six strings, same exact tuning. Let me play it. Gotta tell you, it's fun as all hell.
They wish they made real Mountain Dew. We call it “white lightnin’” where I come from (the Appalachians). It would put hair on your chest, boy or girl or person!
