In the pines, in the pines, There lived a bee who shivered the whole night through. His hair was dyed, his enormous size, Meant he didn’t have to listen to anyone and he ruled his crew, With fear and intimidation; He sought to bee the cause of social dysfunction.
The Blues-Bee was hardest to bee seen, When the moon was up in the sky. He would move between the shadows unseen; His reflection cast no light.
No soul, no noise, just endless nights. No smile, no toys, just one bad idea; it was time to fight. He had raised a band of blues stingers And he knew there was only one way; his way. He couldn’t stand the way others sang; It was his depressing buzz that made all other bees fly away.
Blues Bee and his gang travelled in search of sound; They were never happy and travelled under the ground. The fleas and the Blues Bee travelled with the worms. The worms would lead the way through all the dirt And the Blues-Bee would tell them what to do.
He heard a noise, so they burst up through And appeared at a picnic party birthday celebration. There was a grasshopper playing the lute And the Blues-Bee took it away and imposed his condemnation. Hey give it back! I built that! I’m just here to bee with my friends. The Blues-Bee said nothing; he was a bully And the lute was never seen again.
Blues Bee jumped down a hole; The lute he stole was never to bee returned. The grasshoppers friends said let’s go after them! But the grasshopper said in the end they will lose And there is a lesson here to bee learned.
The group they sat and listened to her words; The rivers flowed through to bee forever heard. She spoke of peace in a time of conflict; She taught them how to just move past it. She taught a generation to see further… So they named her Lila.