| THEY’RE shifting old North Sydney— Perhaps ’tis just as well—
 They’re carting off the houses
 Where the old folks used to dwell.
 Where only ghosts inhabit
 They lay the old shops low;
 But the Spirit of North Sydney,
 It vanished long ago.
 
The Spirit of North Sydney,The good old time and style,
 It camped, maybe, at Crow’s Nest,
 But only for a while.
 It left about the season,
 Or at the time, perhaps,
 When old Inspector Cotter
 Transferred his jokes and traps.
 
A brand new crowd is throngingThe brand new streets aglow
 Where the Spirit of North Sydney
 Would gossip long ago.
 They will not know to-morrow—
 Tho’ ’twere but yesterday—
 Exactly how McMahon’s Point
 And its ferry used to lay.
 
The good old friendly spiritIts sorrows would unfold,
 When householders were neighbours
 And shop-keeping was old;
 But now we’re busy strangers,
 Our feelings we restrain—
 The Spirit of North Sydney
 Shall never come again!
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