I’ll bee there when the hive is dark,
buzzin’ low through the petals of your heart.
If the honey turns bitter, if the wings won’t fly,
I’ll light the night with a worker’s lullaby.
Sting of the world can’t keep me away,
I’ll pollinate your sorrow, turn it into May.
When the queen inside you trembles, crown askew,
I’ll bee the drone who stays, just me and you.