This Beard Is for Siobhan

The daughter of a man

Was a mammal

She bore the mark of fire

And of flame

Though they're both the same

Born unto the age of the golden

Oh, that golden age of endless loss and endless gain

Tra-la-la-la, now

Because my lips have split

All the little children

They all hide in front

In the middle and in the behind

La-la-la-la

And because my nose has froze

But I can keep on smellin'

I could smell my little day away

I could smell my whole day away

Na-da-da-da

Now because my teeth don't bite

I can take 'em out dancin'

I could take my little teeth out

And I could show them a real good time

Tra-la-la-la

Well, a real good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, good time

A good time

A real good time, hmm