Telling the Bees -

My mother said 'Listen, son…

Your father’s gone

Now the time has come

You must tell the bees he gave his life

Drape black cloth over the hives.'

Now I am the keeper

And the years passed by

Until the day that Jenny caught my eye

I walked over and I asked her for a kiss

Sweet taste of honey on her lips

Telling the bees, telling the bees

As old as these hills and old as the stones

I feel it down to my soul

And the bees were told

On the day we wed

Wild flower garlands

Draped our marriage bed

Now two years on, we have our son

The bees were told and we carry on

Telling the bees, telling the bees

As old as these hills and old as the stones

I feel it down to my soul

The joy is in the telling

The sorrow in the soul

Tears of happiness and sadness

Let them flow…

Telling the bees, telling the bees