Hi,

Sorry, I can't quite do it for "Club with no beards". But this evening this bit came out, with almost that title:


A Club With No Beard
(Lyrics: Mysha; music Gordon Parsons - A Pub with no Beer)


Folk can be strange, when you're out on the road
With each night a new room, for to put down your load,
But there's naught so outlandish, so not-what-it-appeared,
As to stand on the floor of a club with no beard.

When you entered the pub, well, it didn't look queer
The publican it seemed, was just glad to serve beer
But the maid pouring soda's, that seemed a bit weird
And then suddenly you realised: No-one there had a beard.

The crowd, you found out, were all barely fifteen
The most captivated audience, that you ever had seen
And after each song, they hollered and cheered.
A club packed with kids, no-one there with a beard.

In the break they bought all the CDs that you had;
Said they found you on Pinterest, on the Internet.
And as could be expected: Then the mobiles appeared
You were in ninety-two selfies of kids with no beard.

Then they all said goodnight, and they left there and then
For, they were too young to drive, and the bus left at ten
Your biggest crowd ever, but the whole club had cleared
They had left you behind in that club with no beard

The break being over, you checked what to do
But the place was deserted, not a soul there but you
And you stood there and wondered, before you too disappeared:
What a curious thing is a club with no beard.

Well, folk can be strange, when you're out on the road
With each night a new room, for to put down your load,
But there's naught so outlandish, so not-what-it-appeared,
As to stand on the floor of a club with no beard.


(Inspired by an encounter Vin Garbutt recounted at Ely festival.)

Bye,
                                                                Mysha