| Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
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| From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
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| The summer’s gone, and all the roses are dying
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| It’s you, It’s you must go and I must bide
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| But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow
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| Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow
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| For I’ll be here in sunshine or in shadow
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| Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so
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| But when ye come and all the flowers are a dying
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| And if I am dead, dead I well may be
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| Just come and find, find the place
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| Find the place where I lay lying
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| And kneel and say an «Ave» there for me
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| And I will hear tho soft you tread above me
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| And my grave, my grave warmer and sweeter be
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| For you’re gonna kneel and you’re gonna tell
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| God you’re gonna tell me how you loved me
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| And I will sleep in peace until you come to me |