I was stumbling through the darkness of an alleyway in Chinatown, where the guy showed me the mogwai that night.
And I was laughing to myself, and thinking all is well that ends well, I won't feed them after midnight next time,
When a subtle voice inside my head suggested I turn right, not left, and I wound up in a dimly lit pub.
And it was roughly ten pints later, on my back upon the floor, when I found my swimming eyes looking up...
...into Alan Moore's beard.

Alan's beard, it introduced itself as Nick and smiled a wicked smile. I was a little nervous I found.
Until it soon put me at ease, my inner fears began to cease, because it offered then to buy the next round.
He said he really liked his job, but Alan was a little too much for a beard to have to deal with, sometimes.
And he needed some time off, so when Alan wasn't looking, he sneaked off and went to find a good time.

Me and Alan Moore's beard took a walk around the universe,
Making subtle changes to the landscape as we went.
Me and Alan Moore's beard watched a midnight screening of Psycho.
We ate dinner from a dumpster, and we danced in an opium den.
Sometimes the night can get real weird, when you're with Alan Moore's beard.

The night was blurring softly 'round the edges as it went on and ol' Nick and I we got on just fine.
We made a buddy film in LA, sold some fruit out by the freeway, wrote our names across the Hollywood sign.
Nick told me Alan had awakened, and for sure he would be shaken when he found his beard had run off again.
Last time it was a test of wills, he'd sent the Hound of Baskervilles. We'd start running if we had any sense...

Me and Alan Moore's beard, we layed low in the Serengeti.
We went cloud busting in Poughkeepsie, and stuck our fingers in a dam.
Me and Alan Moore's beard took a wrong turn at Albuquerque.
We hunted swamp things in the bayou, sat in a window in Amsterdam.
Some nights the time can get real weird, when you're with Alan Moore's beard...

He showed me wonders deep inside myself, where no one else had been.
He helped recover all my happy memories and secret sins.
He showed me how I could defeat myself, repeat myself, complete myself, concrete myself, not cheat myself... He showed me how to live.

Well, our vice was out undoing as we stopped inside a Waffle House to grab ourselves a morning repast.
He sat there at the counter, looking up at us in anger. Alan Moore shot out his arm, lightning fast.
He snatched his beard up by the scruff and stuffed it back onto his face, and he was out the door without a single sound.
Around the edges of his head, ol' Nick had stretched to wave goodbye, and I stole the cashier's pen to write this down.

Me and Alan Moore's beard drew a mustache on Mona Lisa. We added letters to the alphabet, and we learned how to travel time.
Me and Alan Moore's beard laced the puritans' bread with ergot. We smoked a cheap cigar with Cheetah, and we swung from a Tarzan vine.
Me and Alan Moore's beard double-teamed a bearded lady. We had an ice cream in the Parthenon, and we turned water into wine.
Me and Alan Moore's beard held a wake for Mad Sweeney. We used a rainbow for a slip and slide, and taught the planets to align.

Sometimes life's more than it appears, when you're with Alan Moore's beard.