An old Irishman once told me...
"Never leave an Irishman in mid-drink -
You might miss the inspiration"

Danny Boy...

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 roses falling
'Tis you must go, 'tis 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
'Tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so

But if you come, and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I may well be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say and "ave" there for me

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my grave shall warm and sweeter be
If you will bend and tell me that YOU love me
Then I will sleep in peace until you come to me

Wherever you go and whatever you do,
May the luck of the Irish be there with you.