Well it’s a bitter night in February, gotta be minus thirty-five;
And I’ve been rustling way too long here in the comfort of the hive.
There ain’t no plants a-growin’, and Lord knows I need a snooze;
Guess I caught a winter case of…
Got a little honeybee blues.
I can feel you in the mid-May sky, your magnetic power;
It’s the sweetest taste of heaven, drawing nectar from your flower;
And your bloom gets brighter and brighter, like I was your best news.
Oh, I thank the Lord for saving me
From the honeybee blues.
[Break.]
Now the queen begins a-buzzing, she says, “We gotta show we care,
For everyone who comes knocking, even the growling bear.
Well I know some will hate us, but they love what we produce.
So let’s all give them some, you know we’ve got nothing to lose.
So let them in, and don’t be stinging them with the honeybee blues;
I said, let them in, and then nobody’s singing
Those honeybee blues.”
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