The World Turned A Bashful Bee

The world turned a bashful bee
Where pleasant people roam
Assort the many rooms
The spider has spun
Weaving blood and sun
Empty the reflection
Where the bee buzzes
Vibrating the glass
So they say, when the bee disappears
They will wind back the clock of the past
To take us into new territory
Shifting the paradigm
You should ask the bees
Ask them "what is fine"

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