Keep your eyes well peeled today    The excise men are on their way   Searching for the mountain tay   In the hills of Connemara.       Gather up the pots and the old tin cans   The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran.    Run like the devil from the excise man   Keep the smoke from rising, Barney.       Swinging to the left, swinging to the right   The excise men will dance all night   Drinkin' up the tay till the broad daylight   In the hills of Connemara.       Gather up the pots and the old tin cans   The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran.    Run like the devil from the excise man   Keep the smoke from rising, Barney.       A gallon for the butcher and a quart for John   And a bottle for poor old Father Tom   Just to help the poor old dear along   In the hills of Connemara.       Gather up the pots and the old tin cans   The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran.    Run like the devil from the excise man   Keep the smoke from rising, Barney.       Stand your ground, for it's too late   The excise men are at the gate.    Glory be to Paddy, but they're drinkin' it straight   In the hills of Connemara.       Gather up the pots and the old tin cans   The mash, the corn, the barley and the bran.    Run like the devil from the excise man   Keep the smoke from rising, Barney.