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: