Last night as I lay dreamin'
Of pleasant days gone by
Me mind bein' bent on rambling
To Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and
I followed with the wind
Till first I came to anchor at
The cross at Spancil Hill

It being the 23rd of June
The day before the fair
Where 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 near Clooney
A mile from Spancil Hill

I went to see my neighbours to
See what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone
The young ones turning grey
I met the tailor Quigley
He's as bold as ever still
He used to mend my britches when
I lived in Spancil Hill

I took a flying visit to my one and only love
She's as white as any lily
As gentle as a dove
She threw her arms around
Me, saying "Johnny, i love you still"
She is Nell, the farmer's daughter
The pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I held and kissed her
As in the days of old
Saying, "Johnny, you're only joking
As many's the time before"
But the cock, he crew in the morning
He crew both loud and shrill
I awoke in California
Many miles from Spancil Hill