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| Last nigh | t as I lay dreamin | g, of pleasant days gone by |
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| My mind w | as bent on rambling, and to Boston I did fly |
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| I s | tepped on board a vision, and I followed with th | e will |
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| Till at las | t, I came to anchor | at the rocks on Fairmount Hill |
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| It was on t | he 23rd of | June, one day before the fair |
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| When Bosto | n's sons and daughters and friends assembled there |
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| The youn | g, the old, the brave and the bold, came their duty to fulfill |
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| At the paris | h church on Thatcher, a | mile from Fairmount Hill |
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| I w | ent to see old friend | s there, to see what they might say |
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| The old | ones were all dead and gone, the young ones turning gra | y |
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| I m | et the broker Hughes, he's as odd as ever sti | ll |
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| See I used | to crash at his mother's h | ouse, when I hung on Fairmount Hill |
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| I p | aid a flying visi | t to my first and only love |
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| She's as white | as any lily, and as gentle as a do | ve |
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| She thr | ew her arm around me saying, "Andy I love you still" |
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| Oh, she's one m | iss Fayes O'Bailey, the pri | de of Fairmount Hill |
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| I d | reamt I'd fought a violent | war for the hand of this darling gal |
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| A-ga | inst an angry jealous foe by the name of Danny Gil | l |
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| The cloc | k it rang in the morning, | it rang both loud and shrill |
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| When I awoke i | n Cali-fornia, man | y miles from Fairmount Hill |