This Beard Is for Siobhán Devendra Banhart

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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