| Work hard, play nice then send your souls to paradise
|
| That’s your choice, one beekeeper, several billion bees
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| My honey quota will land me a spot inside
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| But just in case I’ll soak my legs in the deepest pollen vast and then
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| Transform worker to drone
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| I’ll dig the biggest hole
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| Die all alone and watch my soul just rot in dirt without a home
|
| Give us this day our daily bread, but not too much please
|
| My appetite has dried out in the last few centuries
|
| But I’m still not going hungry
|
| The few, the proud, the rebel merchants selling science
|
| Intrepid volunteers just easing in a new-school doctrine
|
| Giant lab coats and explosions, powdered old-wave revelations
|
| Dodging smoke and mirrors in the dark
|
| Transform worker to drone
|
| I’ll dig the biggest hole
|
| Die all alone and watch my soul just rot in dirt without a home
|
| The only one with complex eyes that scan and recognize
|
| Sources soaked in hearsay, these words polarize us
|
| Out-dated blueprints, obsolete framework with foundations in the mud
|
| Lets show the new world how it’s done
|
| So here we are
|
| And it’s just me, and mixer Huxley
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| We’re right outside, open the door
|
| Because it’s me, and friggin' Huxley
|
| Leading not deep into deception
|
| Ladies and gentlemen, the situation has evolved
|
| Direct your attention overhead and watch the curtain fall
|
| Take a good look at the hive tonight then watch the fireflies
|
| Cut it down and say goodbye
|
| Tired bugs with complex eyes, tired bugs with complex eyes
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| So let’s utilize them and behold
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| Ladies and gentlemen, the situation has evolved |