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Spancil Hill



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Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
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My mind been bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
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I stepped on board a vision and followed it with a will
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Til next I came to anchor at the cross near Spancil Hill

It being the twenty-third 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, just a mile from Spancil Hill

I went to see me neighbours to see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young ones turning grey
I met with the tailor Quigley, he's as bold as ever still
Ah, he used to make me britches when, I lived at Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's fair as any lily, and gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me, saying Johnny I love you still
Ah, she was a farmer's daughter ,and the pride of Spancil Hill

I hugged her and I kissed her as in the days of yore
Ah, Johnny you're only joking as many the time before
Then the cock crew on the old hen roost, he crew both loud and shrill
I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill

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