I wasn’t prepared
To get
My hair
Wet,
So I got it cut,
For two quid,
And now there’s less to fret
About and I can go out
At ease,
And even the breezy
And blustery stuff
Won’t ruffle it,
And though the cold
May corrode my old scalp
It shan’t dampen my language,
Which should stand me in good
Stead in the post office
Queue.
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