Woad, you just make your skin Blue..

[To the tune of Men of Harlech]

1. What's the use of wearing braces, Hats and spats and shoes with laces
Vests and coats you buy in places Down on Brompton Road?
What's the use of shirts of cotton, Studs that always get forgotten?
Such affairs are simply rotten; Better far is Woad!

Woad's the stuff to show, men! Woad to scare your foemen!
Boil it to a brilliant blue, And rub it on your legs and your abdomen!

Ancient Britons never hit on Anything as good as Woad to fit on
Neck and knees, and where you sit on; Tailors, you be blowed.

2. Romans came across the channel, All dressed up in tin and flannel;
Half a pint of Woad per man'll Clothe us more than these!
Saxons, ye may save your stitches, Building beds for bugs in britches;
We have Woad to clothe us, which is Not a nest for fleas.

Romans, save your armor -- Saxons, your pajamas!
Hairy coats were made for goats, Gorillas, yaks, retriever dogs, and llamas!

So march on Snowdon with your Woad on; Never mind if you get rained or snowed on --
Never need a button sewed on! W-O-A-D, Woad!