My Hair

Not so long ago,

When I worked in the city,

Working in an office there,

My boss called me

And said it was a pity,

But it concerned my hair.

My hair, my hair,

It can’t stay there.

He gave me praise,

Said I worked like an eagle,

Then he followed with the kick.

My hair’s too long,

It might cause a giggle,

Or brand me -- lord, lord -- a beatnik.

My hair, my hair,

It can’t stay there.

He was for me,

For we judge by appearance

Inside the business land.

If you stand out,

They’ll greet you with forbearance,

Which explains their stoic stand.

My hair, my hair,

It can’t stay there.

You ain’t for me.

It just ain’t worth the money

To sacrifice my private ways.

Buy a new boy,

Even though to you it’s funny,

It’s going to be hair that stays.

My hair, my hair,

I rather like it there.