As we creep along
The beat from our wings keeps us humming
To the buzz of our hives requiem
This comb will rot away, our queen is filled with eggs
And that's just the worker instinctively feeding meSo if these beasts wants something sweet
Some may go down after the sting
We've raped the nectar from patches deep
'Cause if it tastes like honey then it must be sweetWe're working hard one hundred and fifty-four
Trips to shit out just a few teaspoons
Of our delicious excrementSo sing along to our queen's five year epilogue
For the end of her breeding days
Regurgitate all the shit that we ate
'Cause if it tastes like honey then it must be sweetDon't you mind the fact you're not breathing?
Just keep feeding the ones we'll be needing
Don't you mind the fact you're not breathing?
Just keep feeding the ones we'll be needingWe keep flying off but we crawl right back
Yeah, we crawl right back, back
We crawl right back
We keep flying off but we crawl right back'Cause when you're this small, small
Anything can crush you
'Cause when you're this bored, boredAnything can crush you
'Cause when you're this small, small
Anything can crush youHere's a glass for a colony greater than death
My blistered hands, my blistered hands they soak
Here's a glass for a colony greater than death
My blistered hands, my blistered handsWe're working hard one hundred and fifty-four
Trips to shit out just a few teaspoons
We're working hard one hundred and fifty-four
Trips to shit out just a few teaspoons
Songwriters
Rudy Gajadhar;Mike Kaminsky;Kyle O'quin;Robert Darling;Kirk Huffman;Nicholas NewshamPublished by
GATSBY'S AMERICAN PUBLISHING Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.