I think myself a smart young man
For I know a lot of things
Like what those little critters are
That fly round on buzzing wings
Collecting pollen every day
From every single flower
And making honey out of it
For hour after hour

But they can get so bothersome
A-buzzing round your head
And just one little sting from them
Will swell and turn you red
So one morning as I roamed about
Partaking in the day
I tried to smash one, and the people
turned to me and said

Let it be! You're a thug!
It's a bee, not a bug!
We wouldn't survive without them!
They make sugar and honey
And so for your money
You can have them on toast or in tea
Mercy me!
It isn't a bug, it's a bee!

Well I started think
And actually ponder
About what they's said
So I let my mind wander
Back to my youth
When I was just five
And I used to hurl rocks
At a giant bee hive
It seemed so much fun
Of all things the best
But something was brewing
Inside that nest.
So I launched a large rock
At the thing on the tree
Then an angry swarm flew out
And headed for me!

And as they doctored my stings, they said....

Let them be! You're a thug!
It's a bee, not a bug!
We wouldn't survive without them!
They make sugar and honey
And so for your money
You can have them on toast or in tea
Mercy me!
It isn't a bug, it's a bee!


--Mbo