I’m no social butterfly, but I buzz from flower to flower. I talk to all as I do the rounds, but my resting face looks dour. They think that I am feeling sad, Even when the sun is shining on me; They don’t see me as a buzzing bee. They don’t see me working for The Queen.
She sits upon her majestic throne and watches us pass by. We all seem to bee happy; the work keeps us in tune, But one day soon, this little buzzing bee, Will bee found staring at the moon.
The moths say they can do it; They’re gonna fly up there one day. They see the light and all its might; They have big dreams, I would say.
My dreams are only small hopes; I am not asking for the moon. I’d like a bee to fly with, so with her I could share my jokes. I want to make her laugh and smile; So I would appreciate it if I could meet her soon.
I collect all the honey and build octagons; The perfect shape to make the most of the honey we consume. I don’t need a large pile of honey, To build myself the future I believe I am due.
You see my heart is limited; It only has space for two. You and me; me and you. The sound of my buzz is out of tune.