| Song | Queen Bee |
| Artist | Hafdis Huld |
| Album | Home |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Our flag is his coat | |
| As he marches | |
| Down the middle of the road | |
| We slowly walk behind him | |
| As we try to understand this game | |
| Towards the sun | |
| This fight has only just begun | |
| There ain’t many things | |
| He wouldn’t do for this place | |
| I'm always on the run and I hate copy paste for god's sake | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He’s growing his own army of bees | |
| Moving too fast | |
| For the magic to last | |
| On his watch the world | |
| Moves a different pace | |
| We all have space | |
| His anchor went down | |
| Kept his boots on the ground | |
| Unaffected by the race taking place | |
| All around | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He’s growing his own army of bees | |
| He came from far away | |
| Outside everyday | |
| And his rooster thinks it’s morning all the time | |
| Tobacco in the air | |
| Whenever he is near | |
| And I’m not sure if the dog is his or mine | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He’s growing his own army of bees |
| Our flag is his coat | |
| As he marches | |
| Down the middle of the road | |
| We slowly walk behind him | |
| As we try to understand this game | |
| Towards the sun | |
| This fight has only just begun | |
| There ain' t many things | |
| He wouldn' t do for this place | |
| I' m always on the run and I hate copy paste for god' s sake | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees | |
| Moving too fast | |
| For the magic to last | |
| On his watch the world | |
| Moves a different pace | |
| We all have space | |
| His anchor went down | |
| Kept his boots on the ground | |
| Unaffected by the race taking place | |
| All around | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees | |
| He came from far away | |
| Outside everyday | |
| And his rooster thinks it' s morning all the time | |
| Tobacco in the air | |
| Whenever he is near | |
| And I' m not sure if the dog is his or mine | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees |
| Our flag is his coat | |
| As he marches | |
| Down the middle of the road | |
| We slowly walk behind him | |
| As we try to understand this game | |
| Towards the sun | |
| This fight has only just begun | |
| There ain' t many things | |
| He wouldn' t do for this place | |
| I' m always on the run and I hate copy paste for god' s sake | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees | |
| Moving too fast | |
| For the magic to last | |
| On his watch the world | |
| Moves a different pace | |
| We all have space | |
| His anchor went down | |
| Kept his boots on the ground | |
| Unaffected by the race taking place | |
| All around | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees | |
| He came from far away | |
| Outside everyday | |
| And his rooster thinks it' s morning all the time | |
| Tobacco in the air | |
| Whenever he is near | |
| And I' m not sure if the dog is his or mine | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| Where the grass is green | |
| Lives a man with his queen | |
| Somewhere in between the trees | |
| In a world that no one sees | |
| He' s growing his own army of bees |