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