Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side;
The summers gone and all the roses fading,
T'is you, t'is you 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,
For I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow,
0 Danny boy, 0 Danny boy I love you so.
