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THE BEE SONG (Kenneth Blain, 1938) Oh what a glorious thing to be, A healthy grown up busy busy bee, Whiling away The passing hours Pinching all the pollen From the cauliflow'rs. I'd like to be a busy little bee, Being just as busy as a bee can be, Flying round the garden Brightest ever seen, Taking back the honey To the dear old queen. Chorus: Bz bz bz bz, honey bee, honey bee, Bz if you like but don't sting me. Bz bz bz bz, honey bee, honey bee, Bz if you like but don't sting me. Oh what a glorious thing to be, A healthy grown up busy busy bee, Toying with the tulips, Tasting ev'ry type, Building up the honeycomb That looks like tripe. I'd like to be a busy little bee, Being just as busy as a bee can be, Flying all around In the wild hedgerows, Stinging all the cows Upon the parson's nose. Chorus: Oh what a glorious thing to be, A healthy grown up busy busy bee, Visiting the picnics, Quite a little tease, Raising little lumps Upon the maidens' knees. I'd like to be a busy little bee Being just as busy as a bee can be, Flirting with the butterfly Strong upon the wing. Whoopee! O death Where is thy sting? Chorus: Oh what a glorious thing to be, A healthy grown up busy busy bee, To be a good bee One must contrive, For bees in a beehive Must behive. But maybe I wouldn't be a bee, Bees are all right when alive, you see, But when bees die You really should see 'em, Pinned on a card In a dirty museum. Chorus:

    


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