Spancil Hill - Paddy Reilly

One night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by

My mind was bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly

I stepped on a vision and I followed with the wind

When at last I came to anchor at the cross of Spancill Hill

Then on the 23rd of June the day before the fair

When Ireland’s sons and daughters and friends a**embled there

The young, the old, the brave and the bold came their duty to fulfill

At the Parish Church in Clooney a mile from Spancill Hill

I went to see my neighbours, to hear what they might say

The old ones were all dead and gone, and the young ones turning grey

I met the tailor Quigley, he’s as bold as ever still

Sure he used to make my britches when I lived in Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit to my first and only love

She’s as fair as any lily and gentle as a dove

She threw her arms around me, saying «Johnny, I love you still»

Ah she’s Ned, the farmer’s daughter, the pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I held and kissed her as in the days of yore

«Oh Johnny you’re only joking, as many’s the time before»

The c*** he crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill

When I woke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill