Last night as I
lay dreaming
of pleasant days gone by
Me mind being bent
on rambling
to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board
a vision
and I followed
with the will
Till next I came
to anchor at
the cross in Spancil Hill
It being on
the twenty-third of June
the day before the fair
When lreland's
sons and daughters
and friends
assembled there
The young the old
the brave and the bold
came their duty
to fulfill
at the parish church
in Clooney
a mile from Spancil Hill
I went to see
me neighbors
to see what they
might say
The old ones were
all dead and gone
The young one's
turning grey
But I met
the tailor Quigley
He's as bould
as ever still
Ah he used to make
me breetches
when I lived
in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit
to my first and only love
She's as white
as any lily
Gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms
around me
saying Johnny
I love you still
Ah she's Nell
The Farmer's daughter
and the pride of
Spancil Hill
I dreamt I held
and kissed her
as in the days of yore
Ah Johnny
you're only joking
as many's the time before
Then the cock
he crew in the morning
He crew both loud
and shrill
I awoke in California
many miles
from Spancil Hill
