In a summer's night I take my flight
To where the maidens repose;
And while they are slumbering sweet and sound,
I bite them on the nose;
The warm red blood that tints their cheeks,
To me is precious dear,
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.
When I get my fill, I wipe my bill,
And sound my tiny horn;
And off I fly to mountain high
Ere breaks the golden morn;
But at eve I sally forth again
To tickle the sleeper's ear;
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.
On the chamber wall about I crawl,
Till landlord goes to bed;
Then my bugle I blow, and down I go
To light upon his head.
Oh, I love to see the fellow slap,
And regret to hear him swear;
For 'tis my delight to buzz and bite
In the season of the year.