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

But when ye come, and all the flow'rs are dying, 
If I am dead, as dead I well may be. 
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying, 
And kneel and say an Ave there for me. 

And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me; 
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be, 
For you will bend and tell me that you love me; 
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!