Surreal Bad Hair Day

I stare in the mirror with fear on my face So late for work my heart starts to race I move the old brush, striving for perfection As I gaze in horror at this shambling reflection Each move of the hand makes it look worse I am in need of a stylist or possibly a hearse I squirt on some gel and it hits the mark I turn on the dryer and out shoots a spark I run all around with my hair quite ablaze While it looks very hot it will be no new craze I search for some water and instead I find cheese I find this quite odd as I pant and I wheeze I glance at my hair and it appears to be fur But it did not before, of this I am sure I begin to wake up, things start to come clear I can see plainly how I had nothing to fear Now it makes sense, things are not as they seem Isn't it strange of what an animal can dream?