Labor Day, sunny and warm.
Shorewood. Situation nomral.
Sails on misty waters and all the roses falling. The summer's gone.
Shorewood, Afghanistan, Iraq, Veterans Administration, Pakistan, Iran, India, Russia, China. The pipes are calling.
Ten percent unemployment - - come ye back when summer's in the meadow.
Oh 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.
'Tis you, '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,
For I'll be here 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
And if I'm dead, as dead I might well be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an Ave for me.
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And o'er my grave shall warmer, sweeter be,
And if you bow and tell me that you love me,
Then I shall sleep in peace until you come to me.
- - - - - - -
Forecast, tomorrow mostly sunny.
War remaining. Shorewood, summer ending.
School and flu shoots predicted
Hush of snow over many graves,
But many babes coming.