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?
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