Here comes the beekeeper
With her pitcher full of smoke
She'll put us all to sleep and hope
It’s dream and honesty
Sweet Prometheus come home,
They took away our fire
And all that scarcity promotes
It’s desperate men and times
What fine design, what hails, what mise
The envy and eden, the tools and our reasons
Clear in the animal Animal's eyes
We stand up right, the fires at night
Made on 6th day to rest on the 7th
For now we just try to survive
The surgeon and the farmer meet
Each greets the other with a bow
Their kindred instruments you’ll know
The scalpel and the plow
And in the shadow of the mountain
We work when work abound
And we wear out all our prayers
When the work runs out
What fine design, my hands are mine
The envy and eden, the tools and our reasons
Clear in the animal Animal's eyes
We stand up right, the fires at night
Made on 6th day to rest on the 7th
For now we just try to survive.
