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
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They all hide in front
In the middle and in 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

good time a good time
real good time...