Last night as I lay dreaming
Me mind been bent on rambling
I stepped on board a vision,
followed softly with the wind
When first I came to Ankara,
many miles from Spansol Hill
It'd been on the 23rd of June,
When Ireland's sons and daughters
and friends assembled there
At the parish church in Clulee,
a mile from Swansoil 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 the tailor quickly,
he's as bold as ever still
Sure he used to mend me bridges
when I lived in Swansfield
to my first and only love
She's as white as any lily,
She threw her arms around me,
saying, Johnny, I love you still
She's Ned, the farmer's daughter,
the pride of Spansow Hill
I dreamt, I held and kissed her
A jolly or lonely joking,
as many as the time before
The cock it grew in the morning,
it grew both loud and shrill
When I walk in California,
many miles from Spanisal Hill.
4.7
