Last night as I lay dreaming
Of pleasant days gone by
Me mind been bent on rambling
To Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision
And followed with a will
Till next I came to anchor
At the cross near Spancill Hill
Delighted by the novelty
Enchanted with the scene
Where in me early boyhood - often I had been
I thought I heard a murmur
And I think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
That flows down Spancill Hill
To amuse a pa**ing fancy
I lay down on the ground
And all my school companions
They shortly gathered round
When we were home returning
We danced with bright goodwill
To Martin Moynahan's music
At the cross at Spancill Hill
It was on the 24th of June
The day before the fair
When Ireland's sons and daughters
And all a**embled there
The young, the old, the brave, the bold
Came their duty to fulfil
At the little church in Clooney
A mile from Spancill Hill
I went to see me neighbours
To see what they might say
The old ones they were dead and gone
The young ones turning grey
I met the tailor Quigley, he was bold as ever still
Sure he used to make my britches
When I lived at Spancill Hill
I paid a flying visit to me first and only love
She's as fair as any lilly and gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me
Crying "Johnny I love you still"
She was a farmer's daughter
The pride of Spancill Hill
Well I dreamt I hugged and kissed her
As in the days of yore
She said "Johnny you're only joking"
As many the times before
The co*k crew in the morning
He crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke in California
Many miles from Spancill Hill