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.