Oh 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 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.
Yes, I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so!
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