Buzzing, pulsing, rending, tearing
Fill the air with screams unending
Stingers strong and wings of paper
Fill us, fill you
Hell on noisy wings

Death spills from open lips
Twist around the syllables
Queens that won’t grow old

Lock your windows, close your doors
Doesn’t really matter anymore
Every crack is a doorway
Screaming won’t save you

Oh haven’t you heard?
Haven’t you learned?
I’m the man with wasps in his belly