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 flowers dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go, and I must bide

 [bad word] ye back when summer's in the meadow,
or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny Boy, oh Danny Boy, I love you so

But when [bad word] and all the roses falling,
and I am dead, as dead I well may be,
Go out and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an Ave there for me

And I will hear tho' soft your tread above me,
and then my grave will warm and sweeter be
For you shall bend and tell me that you love me,
And I will sleep in peace until [bad word] to me