Spancil Hill

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 a will 'Til next I came to anchor at the cross at Spancil Hill It being on the 23rd of June, the day before the fair When Ireland'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 ones turning gray But I met the tailor Quigley, he's as bold as ever still Ah, he used to mend me britches 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" As she's Nell the farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill I dreamed I held and kissed her as in the days of yore Ah Johnny, you're only jokin', 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