O Danny Boy, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountian 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 hushead and white with snow.
I`ll be there 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 may well 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 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!