Where the birds whisper, green grass, lies a meadow through the pass.
And if you wish to be alone, where your heart can forever roam.
Then cry unto me,
The Bee and the Tree, the Bee and the Tree.
Stinging, ringing, killing, singing, the tree! O' tree how faithful can you ever be.
Light passes, dark comes, but dear! O' dear that's just the sting of the bee.
Don't worry, lie down.
The Bee and the Tree, the Bee and the Tree.
Your branches, your thornes, the words from your trunk.
I hope the bee will bring you luck. Make a good impression, and fight depression, and come to the swaying tree, for I will be there just you and me.
The Bee and the Tree, the Bee and the Tree.
On your own, skin and bone, hunting the hunted.
Spears and arrows, things of war, you fret! O' fret, but what for? Imagine a lie, the roll, the die, all come with the bee.
Well what happens when life fades?
The Bee and the Tree, the Bee and the Tree.
Pain, deep inside.
Hide! they say, but not aloud.
The lonely bee, the hanging tree, will come celebrate life with me.
Tigers prowl, wolves howl, and what a lovely sound.
For they come too.
The Bee and the Tree, the Bee and the Tree.
