With no concept for special time, and all the maps erased in my mind,Tangled, beautiful, Welsh, and weird, I got lost in Adrian's beard.In a grey bed down under his chin, I braided a door and let no one in,Heard someone whisper, get him on out of there, Suddenly a fugitive, an Adrian.I fell asleep to the sound of him singing, I stopped worrying and started dreaming,A little country to the left of England, Sourdough rugby and songs worth stealing.They tried with brushes, rakes and combs, But I was too embedded down in my new home,I found food under his ears, Hiding out in Adrian's beard.No car payments or telephone bills, Ain't no traffic or Crosby and Stills,No internet service to speak of in here, Tangled and beautiful in Adrian's beard,I'm loving life in Adrian's beard, Ain't no doors to knock on in Adrian's beard,So just leave me alone in Adrian's beard.