Danny Boy

Danny BoyOh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling from glen to glen, and down the mountain side. The summer*s gone, and all the roses falling. It*s you, it*s you who must go, and I must bide. But come ye back, when summer*s in the meadow, or when the valley*s hushed and white with snow, it*s I*ll be here, in sunshine or in shadow. Oh, Danny boy, oh, Danny boy, I love you so.