There once was a man who visited Beardenzia
His beard was full, and face was bright
He work hard and earned his way
But his time was short, he wasn’t to stay
So gifts he brought for young and old
Free music for some, to others he sold
His bass he would play through the night
As he told tales of wrong and right
His Arsenal he brought for all to see
To Lord Waters it was a gift meant to be
Then that day came
He had to go
There was mourning in the land
Sorrow and woe
Until that day when he returns
Beardenzia’s fires will brightly burn
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