For Some Of That Mountain Dew Poem by James Casey

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 whiskeyboys close by

Let trees grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
It's made near Carolina's Blue Ridge Highway
To hell with the tax man, send him on his way
Give me enough of the rare old stuff today

For it fills the air with a perfume rare
Then believe, betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl
Or even a kettle full of mountain dew

Now men who use the pen have written praises high
Of the Cobalt whiskey from Carolina's green
Distilled out back from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it cures all ills

Sit down fella..... don't mind the smoke
Be a pagan, Christian, or even a Jew
So take off your coat and amuse your throat
With a bucket of the Carolina mountain dew.