Tonight, the drones make a nice tableau
Of a neutered-down life. There's a cycle to go
We were buzzed, to boot. Scuzzed out, and sweet-toothed
When the wax split open and she entered the room

And you know she's eaten all the royal jelly, oiled and ready
Hot-smoking pheromone heady. Already got a swarm tight
Packed like a city. Hanging at a wingspan. Sting that pretty

Queen bee, keep a team of sisters in the wake. Them
Mean bee battle-scarred bitches quick to hate
They work her like security, keep us all at bay
The dance floor's open. We were doing the Rockaway

Now all the other drones vying for attention
Got the pollination dance out, no question
Moves real slick but they still get taught a lesson by the
Barbarella blessing of a ganglial injection

Tough shit. Fodder for the hive
Staying alive requires more than leaning to the side
Bust-a-move bodies line the walls, five high
I see an opportunity. The beat, it double times so

I two-step out, and right away they know a problem
The working girls intervene, I slip clean around them
Moves like they've never seen. Grooves, yeah, I got them
I hit the honey spot. The Queen's jaw's dropping

Hand maids rush and clear a high ground sector
Serving up the finest honey-pollinated nectar
Waistband wax-gland tickle with her texture
Sliding to the top spot, think you get the picture

Tonight, the drone's bout to get his own
Bout to take the throne. It's a nice tableau of a
Royal bone. No more being blown. No more
Being alone. And buzzing round and round the stone

Alas!? Like the boys in the class, I was not built to long last
And now I'm fading, fading, fading, fading fast
She got a grasp. And a fanged caress. I take
One last breath and I die with a smile on my lips