Someone is breathing in the rubble

 

Someone is breathing in the rubble,

Someone is still alive.

Smoke the beehive, wrecker,

Before the worker bees arrive.

They are out carrying pollen,

On their backs.

And therefore are still alive.

Perhaps the Queen bee will survive,

Perhaps the drone will survive.

Blood of the guard bees,

And the attendant bees,

Flows like honey from the beehive.