It was a stylish congregation
you could see they'd been around
And they had the biggest pipe organ
But over in the Amen Corner of that church
And he insisted every Sunday
His voice was cracked and broken age
had touched his vocal chords
And nearly every Sunday he'd
get behind and miss the words
Well at last the storm cloud burst
and the church was told in vine
That Brother Ira must stop his singing
or the choir was gonna resign
So the pastor appointed a committee I
think it was three or four
And they got their big fine car and
They found the choir's great trouble
sittin' in an old arm chair
And the summer's golden sunbeams lay
Said York we're here dear Brother with
To discuss a little matter that affects
Now it was our understanding
when we bargained for the chair
That they were to relieve us that
is they'd do the singin' for us
Now we don't want no singin' except
The newest tunes are all the rage
the old ones stand for nought
are you listenin' Brother Ira
You'll have to stop your singin'
it's messin' up our choir
The old man raised his head
And on his cheek the three men
caught the glitter of a tear
His feeble hands pushed back the locks
And he answered the committee
in a voice both soft and low
I've sung the songs of David nearly
They've been my staff and comfort
all along life's dreary way
I'm sorry if I disturbed the choir
But when my heart is filled with praise
I wonder if beyond the tide
that's breaking at my feet
In that far off heavenly temple where
Yes I wonder if when I try to sing the
I wonder if they'll kick me out up there
for singin' in Heaven's choir
A silence filled the little room the old
The committee went on back to town
Oh the choir missed him for a
while but he was soon forgot
And a few church goers watched the door
but the old man entered not
Far away his voice is sweet
and he sings his heart's desire
Where there are no church committees
and no fashionable choirs