O Danny Boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, from glen to glen, mountainside. The summer's gone, and all the roses fall. It's you, it's you who must go, and I must find. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, or when the valley's hushed and white with snow. And I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow. Danny Boy, O Danny Boy, I love you so. 此篇相同回報者之文章列表

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