I just read this on the Internet and found out more than I wanted to know about a song I love. I found it on GoGirlfriend's Blog
Danny Boy Banned in New York Pub
The most overplayed, over-ranked and the most depressing lyrics of all time?
If you're hoping for a pint of green beer and hearty round of "Danny Boy" in pubs this St. Patrick's Day, steer clear of Foley's Pub in Manhattan. The owner, Shaun Clancy, banned it for the entire month of March.
"It's overplayed, it's been ranked among the 25 most depressing songs of all time and it's more appropriate AP News - Shaun Clancy for a funeral than for a St. Patrick's Day celebration," said Shaun Clancy, who owns Foley's Pub and Restaurant, across the street from the Empire State Building.
But Shauny Boy, it's the one Irish song we all know - I'm singing it in my head as I'm writing this!
Clancy, the 38-year-old owner, grew up bartending when he started pouring drinks at his Dad's pub in Country Cavan, Ireland. He's promised a free Guinness to anyone who'll sing an Irish song his pub's pre-St. Patrick's Day karaoke party on March 11 - as long as it's not Danny Boy.
A free Guinness? Worth reconsidering our fixation with the tune and a Google search to find a replacement? Maybe.
So, what's the Irish man's problem with Danny Boy. For starters, it was written by an English man, Frederick Edward Weatherly, who never set foot on Irish soil. Some say the song's symbolic of the Irish potato famine, while others say it's a song sung by a mother grieving a dead son or lost lover.
The song concludes, "The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying/ 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide." Maybe Shauny Boy's onto something here - it doesn't exactly sound like Irish dancing music, to me.
Martin Gaffney, 73, told the Associated Press he was happy to see the song banned. The song is "all right, but I get fed up with hearing it - it's like the elections," he said in a thick Irish brogue.
If your heart's set on crooning the sad lyrics this St. Paddy's day, get yourself to AJ's Café in Detroit where you can sing to your heart's content in a 50-hour marathon of the song.
50 hours of Danny Boy?
I don't think there's enough Guinness in the world to get anyone through that special brand of Irish Hell.