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  

Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk