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