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Shanty of the Bearded Man

Let me tell you the tale of a man with a beard

Whose whiskers are whetted, and stoutness revered.

Who voyaged the globe, his intentions unknown

With naught but his wit and the bristles he’d grown

Gather thy men and ready thy sail

For the grandeur of his is our white whale

Step aside Ishmael, it is late

Lest you fall to this man barbate

Now this man has been with us a quinquagénaire

Adorning our lives with his facial hair

To his friends he smiles, to his foes he will grin

As they face the might that has grown on his chin

Gather thy men and ready thy sail

For the grandeur of his is our white whale

Step aside Ishmael, it is late

Lest you fall to this man barbate

From the west to the east to the north he has gone

From tropics to tundra, snow and sun

But the cold and the heat stay away out of fear

For the man whose jawline resembles a bear

Gather thy men and ready thy sail

For the grandeur of his is our white whale

Step aside Ishmael, it is late

Lest you fall to this man barbate

Though the whims of the world are ours to endure

He knows no misère with his hair haute couture

Defying all logic and physical law

His beard has men weeping in shame and awe

Gather thy men and ready thy sail

For the grandeur of his is our white whale

Step aside Ishmael, it is late

Lest you fall to this man barbate

If you happen upon this man one day

You will find his visage has allure and sway

As you gaze upon him there’s a change in the air

And reduced to a babe you can nothing but stare

Gather thy men and ready thy sail

For the grandeur of his is our white whale

Step aside Ishmael, it is late

Lest you fall to this man barbate