The city mayor passed away,
The widow asked if I would sing.
I called her on the telephone
To ask what music I should bring.

“He wanted ‘Jingle Bells’,” she said,
As she was fighting back her tears.
I thought it strange but, well I knew,
The mayor had gotten up in years.

So, next day at the funeral,
In my most solemn reverent voice,
I sang “Jingle Bells” three verses,
Although I thought it a strange choice.

I got a lot of real odd looks
And folks all sort of shied away.
But I sang the mayor’s request,
And knowing that had made my day.

The widow stopped me as I left,
She told me old age really tells.
The song the mayor asked I sing,
Was, “When They Ring Those Golden Bells.”