Me mind pain -pent on rambling
I stepped on Port -a -Vision,
and I followed away the wind,
And I shartly came to anchor
at the cross of Spancil Hill,
Delighted by the novelty,
I thought I heard a murmur
and I think I hear it still
It's the little stream of water
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
Oh, she's Ned, the farmer's daughter
On the flower of Spenser Hill
I dreamt I held and kissed her
She said, Johnny, you're only joking
Like many the time before
The cup he grew in the morning,
he grew both loud and shrill,
And I awoke in California,
many miles from Spancil Hill.