THE BEE SONG
As recorded by Arthur Askey, 1938.

Hello, playmates! And now for no reason at all, I’m going to sing you a little song that made me famous—uh, the song that I made famous—well, anyway, one of us is very good—and I entitle it: “The Bee.”

Oh, what a glorious thing to be!
A healthy grown-up busy, busy bee,
Whiling away the passing hours,
Pinching all the pollen from the cauliflowers.
I’d like to be a busy, busy bee,
Being just as busy as a bee can be,
Flying round the garden, the sweetest ever seen,
Taking back the honey to the dear old queen.

CHORUS: Bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz, honeybee, honeybee,
Bzz if you like but don’t sting me.
Bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz, honeybee, honeybee,
Bzz if you like but don’t sting me.

Bzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzzzzzt!

Oh, what a glorious thing to be!
A healthy grown-up busy, busy bee,
Making hay while time is ripe,
Filling up the honeycomb just like tripe.
I’d like to be a busy, busy bee,
Being just as busy as a bee can be,
Flying all around the wild hedgerows,
Stinging all the cows upon the parson’s nose.

CHORUS

Bzzzzzzzzzzt!—same bee—Bzzzzzzzzzzt!

Oh, what a glorious thing to be!
A healthy grown-up busy, busy bee,
Visiting the picnics, quite a little tease,
Raising little lumps on the boy scouts’ knees.
I’d like to be a busy, busy bee,
Being just as busy as a bee can be,
Flirting with the butterflies, strong upon the wing.
Whoopee! O death where is thy sting?

CHORUS

Ha! Ha! Silly bee song, isn’t it?

Oh, what a glorious thing to be!
A nice obedient busy, busy bee.
To be a good bee, one must contrive,
For bees in a beehive must behive.
But maybe I wouldn’t be a bee.
Bees are all right when alive, you see.
When bees die you really should see ‘em
Pinned on a card in a mucky museum.

Bzz-bzz-bzz-bzz, honeybee, honeybee—
I must buzz off.
Bzz if you like but don’t sting me.