Spancill Hill

     Am              Am
Last night as I lay dreaming
       Am                 Am
Of the pleasant days gone by
   Am
My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly



  Am
I stepped on board a vision
And followed it with a will
'Til I gladly came to anchor
At the Cross of Spancil Hill



    Am
And when our duty did commence, we all knelt down in prayer
In hopes for to be ready, to climb the Golden Stair
And when back home returning, we danced with right good will
Continúa después del anuncio
                                 G                D
To Martin Moilen's music, at the Cross of Spancil Hill


[Instrumental]
(Am G Am G Am G Em Am)


   Am                     G                               D
It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair
      Am                              G              D
Sure Erin's sons and daughters, they all assembled there
      Am                                          G                 D
The young, the old, the stout and the bold, they came to sport and kill
        Am           Em                            D
What a curious combination, at the Fair of Spancil Hill



      Am                        G              D
So I paid a flying visit, to my first and only love
       Am                          G            D
She's as pure as any lily, and as gentle as a dove
      Am                             G                D
She threw her arms around me, saying Mike I love you still
          Am                 Em                                D
And she's Mack the Ranger's daughter, and the Pride of Spancil Hill


[Instrumental]
(Am G Am G Am G Em Am) x2


    D              A           F#m              E
It being a Sabbath morning, I thought I heard a bell
     D                   A          F#m                 G
O'er hills and vallies sounded, in notes that seemed to tell
        D              A           F#m                D
Of the Joyous King of Angels, his Choicest Blessings spill
        D                A                             Asus2  E
On that Glorious spot of Nature, the Cross of Spancil Hill