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Ballad Of The 'Fro

I was looking for ways to save me a few
'cause bartending don't pay the bills.
Like purple's the child of crimson and blue,
used my head to fix my money ills.

I looked at my ledger and saw several ways
of trimming the fat.
The barber got wealthy and that's how he stays
'cause I keep coming back.

My hair is iconic. My arm is bionic.
The sun's in the sky, and there's gin in the tonic.
My curls are all chronic. Now you know
that's the tale of my 'fro.

A haircut a month at five bucks a shot
was more than I could afford.
The solution came to me all stinking and hot
at a volume I couldn't ignore.

I slipped past my landlord on the way to the shop
since I was behind on the rent.
Let me be straight with you right off the top:
I got me a permanent.

My hair is iconic. My secret is sonic.
Getting hit by an ambulance, that's ironic.
My curls are all chronic. Now you know
that's the tale of my 'fro.

Permanents come with a maintenance that's low.
Just set it and forget it.
The style saved me money, but how could I know
one day I'd come to regret it?

I thought the perm was an interim thing,
a temporary measure.
It brought me fame and cha-ching,
and so many people such pleasure.

I want to be known for the things that I do:
the painting, conserving, and good.
But I'm recognized now for only my do.
I may take it down to the wood.

© Audsongs 2016

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