The smallest part of nothing
Won’t gleam in the sun
The smudge of spent gray ashes
To think «I might have done.»
Busy little bee
A dance will make you free
Rest yourself on me
A sting before you flee
And stagger to the earth
Living in a safe place
Quiet as a mouse
They will always find you
Crush you like a louse
Busy little bee
Work will make you free
Laugh and dance with glee
Laugh again for me
What lies within the flower?
Your body may betray you
Mediate your wants
It’s really all to simple
The ghost «desire» haunts
Busy little bee
Tend to all you see
Your hive up in a tree
Reflect and bend a knee
And pray the moon, sun and starts grow old