The bees were soon made safe
  By a bomb-disposal squad
Who feared their interference
  Would infuriate their God.

But everyone seemed happy
  And the sleek metallic bees
Were wearing smoking jackets
  In the birds' nests in the trees.

Did God make these strange bees?
  They asked themselves this question.
Do normal hives have traffic lights
  That help avoid congestion?

If the bees, instead of stinging,
  Cause explosions, spreading panic,
Is this the Lord's intention
  Or the work of his mechanic?

Could a being made by God
  Make these bees that blacken skies,
That make what they call music
  But to teens sounds more like noise?

Could a being made by God
  Make a man who'd make these bees?
And did he make the mouse whose nose
  Exuded creamy cheese,

Which could be spread on crackers
  And went very well with kiwis.
It made a lovely cheesecake,
  Considering it was free cheese.

The mouse despised the cheese
  That flowed freely from its nose.
Almost every time it sneezed,
  The mouse would soil its clothes.

Did the devil have some input
  In these very strange creations?
Did he make the Shetland pony
  That fills up at petrol stations?

These questions brought concern.
  People feared great foes.
Only prayer and alcohol
  Could ease their inner woes.

Alan made the bees
  And the pony and the mouse.
He works inside the shed
  Right behind his parents' house.

He's fifteen years of age
  And he's very good in school,
But it's in the garden shed
  Where he feels that he can rule.

He's proud of his creations.
  He's good at playing God.
Since Christmas he's been working on
  Amphibious trout and cod.

These things owe their existence
  To the brilliance of his brain.
Holidays with his parents
  Always force him to refrain

From practising his hobby.
  Last year he really missed it.
But he'd give it up if only
  Stacey noticed he existed.