Hills Of Connemara - Gaelic Storm

Gather up the pots and the old tin can

And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran

And then run like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney

Now keep your eyes well peeled today

The tall, tall men, they’re on their way

They’re searching for the mountain tea

In the hills of Connemara

Gather up the pots and the old tin can

And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran

And then run like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney

A gallon for the butcher and a quart for Tom

And a bottle for the poor old Father Tom

To help the poor old dear along

In the hills of Connemara

Gather up the pots and the old tin can

And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran

And then run like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney

Now swing to the left, now swing to the right

Sure, the excise man can dance all night

He’s drinkin 'up the tea 'til the broad daylight

In the hills of Connemara

Gather up the pots and the old tin can

And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran

And then run like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney

Now, stand your ground, and don’t you fall

The excise men, they’re at the wall

Jesus Christ, they’re drinkin' it all

In the hills of Connemara

Gather up the pots and the old tin can

And the mash, and the corn, the barley, and the bran

And then run like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney