Frederic E. WeatherlyOh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen and down the mountainside; 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; It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow; Oh, Danny Boy, oh, Danny Boy, I love you so. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow; It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow; Oh, Danny Boy, oh, Danny Boy, I love you so.
Bing Crosby/ John Scott Trotter Orchestra
Frederic E. WeatherlyOh, Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen and down the mountainside; 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; It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow; Oh, Danny Boy, oh, Danny Boy, I love you so. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow; It's I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow; Oh, Danny Boy, oh, Danny Boy, I love you so.
