This Beard Is for Siobhán

The daughter of a man Was a mammal She wore the mark of fire And of flame Though they're both the same Born onto 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 are hiding in front In the middle and in behind La, la, la, la ! And because my nose has froze But I can keep on smelling 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 could take them out dancing I could take my little teeth out And 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