SWARM! by Mbo


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The Challenge: This challenge was to write a song about a a report on National Public Radio that scientists in the US have made a fantastic advance in the study of honey bees -- they've caught several of the little buggers and glued diodes and antennae on their back with double-sided poster tape. "They look like hors d'oeuvres with glass toothpicks in them," said one of the researchers. Then the researchers release the honey bees and *attempt* to follow them in vans equipped with radio receivers; communicating with each other via walkie-talkies, evoking such conversations as: "He's going north." "Now he's going west." "He's going south -- nope, make that north again."

SWARM! by Mbo

Breaker one nine, this is Mother Bee
I got a copy on that drone, come on in!
Gosh golly gee--we got a clear cut right to Honeytown
Ten four Worker Wilma that's a lot of bees
Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got ourselves a SWARM!

It was in the heat of the sun, we were making a run
We all were loaded and haulin'
Some worker bees and a couple drones with a big ol' load of pollen
We were headed way back to our hive
About a mile from a grassy lea
I said Wilma, this here's the Mother Bee
I'm gonna try and go Mach 3

Chorus:
Cause we got a great big bee swarm rocking through the sky
We got a great big bee swarm, don't it make you wanna cry?
Come and join our bee swarm, we're headed back to our lair
We're gonna buzz this great bee swarm right across the air
Bee swarm!

Breaker Wilma, this here's the Mother Bee
You wanna back off those drones
Ten four, about 6 feet or so
Ten roger them drones is hittin' on the ladies again

By the time we reached the sunny spot, we had 50 million bees in all
There was a white van up on the grassy lea
And there were humans large and small
There were scientists thick as hot beeswax
They even had a couple in boats
I said "All trucks, it's me, the Mother Bee
We're a gonna chase some white lab coats"

You wanna give me a ten nine on that Wilma?
Negatory, Wilma, those drones are still to close
Yeah those little buggers are making me mad
You better back off another 6

Well we flew up that sunny sky like a storm of wind and rain
We pulled our pollen baskets out and strapped 'em down again
By the time we got to the forest those coats tried something new
They'd brought up reinforcements from East Carolina U
There's vans and cars and golf carts, and buses of purple hue
Those little motes were full of coats and transmitters stuck like glue
We shot ahead the whole nine yards, with a billion screaming wings
And five lost icheneumons, and 8 hornets without stings

Mother Bee, this here is Worker Wilma, come on
Ten four Wilma, want you to move those icheneumons
Way back behind the drones
Remember, we live in a tree, and those ichies will eat it up

We laid a path from the cityscape to our old familiar tree
I saw belong a hundred coats below with kettles full of steam
I said "Wilma, this here's the Mother Bee, and this ain't the time to lose
So drop some pollen and make 'em sneeze--and let that honey ooze, ten four"

Ten four, Wilma. what's your twenty?
Battle Creek?
They're gonna love that honey up there for sure
Well mercy sakes, good buzzy, we're gonna fly on out of here
Keep the stinger on your buns and the coats off your tail
We'll catch you on the flippity-flop
This here's the Mother Bee on the side
We gone bye bye.