I used to do open mics in Columbus GA, USA. They were exactly that.

There is nothing so odd ball, jarring or weird,
then to hear all those folk songs, when no man has a beard

Well the first guy's retired at 40 years old,
from a media chain that his father has sold.
Now he's a song writer, just passing the time.
He sings bout his good life and drinks his fine wine

The next guy's a singer in a praise band at church
If he grew a beard, he'd be left in the lurch
So he shaves in the evening, as neat as a pin
When he meets ST. Peter he's sure to get in.

There is nothing so odd ball, jarring or weird,
then to hear all those folk songs, in a club with no beard

Then there's the sargent from the fort down the way
Singer by night and a soldier by day
He will let it grow, when he's out on patrol
But back here in town it is under control

Then there is Amy, with the angelic face
Her cultured coiffure has no hair out of place
But take her to your place and your mind is a buzz
For surrounding he chin is a white downy fuzz

There is nothing so odd ball, jarring or weird,
when the prettiest lady is the one with the beard