GATHER UP THE POTS



Gather up the pots and the old tin cans

The corn, the mash, the barley and the bran

Running like the devil from the excise man

Keep the smoke from rising, Barney



Oh the excise men are on their way

They're hunting all around for the mountain tay

Oh they won't go away for the devil of a day

In the hills of Connemaraugh



Oh here's a bottle for Uncle Tom

And here's a gallon for Father John

To help the poor old man along

Through the hills of Connemaraugh



Well, stand your ground for it's too late

The excise men are at the gate

Oh, glory be to Jesus, they're drinking it straight

In the hills of Connemaraugh



@drink @Irish

recorded by Owen McBride

filename[ GATHRPOT

SF

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