Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and followed with my will
Till next I came to anchor at the cross near Spancill Hill
T'was on the 23rd 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 their duty to fulfill
At the parish church at Cluney just a mile from Spancill Hill
I went to see my neighbors to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone the young one's turning grey
I met the tailor Quigley, he's bold as ever still
Oh he used to mend my britches when I lived at Spancill Hill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's fair as any lily and gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around me saying "Johnny I love you still"
Oh she's just a farmer's daughter, but the pride of Spancill Hill
Well we'd raid the ports of England, from Brighton to London Town
And we'd raise our mighty roger, burning buildings to the ground
But at night while in my slumber I'd have visions of her still
Tis a face I'll never see again, and the flower of Spancill Hill
I dreamt I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
Ah Johnny you're only joking as so many times before
The cock he crew in the morning her crew both loud and shrill
And I awoke to greet the hangman, many miles from Spancill Hill
