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The Boy Danny
There was this young dude called Danny
And, this here is his song,
His Pop heard pipes a-calling,
Knew it wouldn’t be long.
He wrote to young Danny,
He called on the phone,
He begged and he pleaded:
“No more to roam!”
“I’m dying, young Danny,
There’s no more to be said,
If you don’t hurry home soon son,
Your dad will be dead!”
But like all the young fellas
There was just too much fun,
He left off returning,
Now the cruel deed is done.
The lone piper played the lone father’s ‘goodbye’,
Not one tear was shed; there was no-one to cry!
Twas many years later,
With his cash all but spent,
Did visit his father.
On bended knee bent to hear from his father
If a message he gave could rise to his ears from the depths of the grave;
Though many years later,
Many cold, cold nights spent,
A message from father was about to be sent:
“Don’t you come, now, a cryin’,
Don’t you, now, shed a tear,
My heart broke with the tryin’,
I refuse now to hear!”
“Go from me now, Danny
And do not return.
I’ve done all my grievin’,
When you’re a father,
You’ll learn!”
Fell silent, his father,
The graveyard turned cold
And in that chill, eerie instant;
Young Danny grew old.
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