I’ll tell myself in Spring that I’ll get it cut in June. 

Really it’s still winter though the daffies are in bloom.

I’ll oil it on a Friday, to help it self repair.

I’ll wash it on a Saturday and let it dry by air.

I’ll comb it with a wide tooth comb, 

So that the ends won’t snap.

I’ll wear my hat, head band and plaits,

Stay home with tea and hug my cats.

I’ll tell myself in Summer that it’s really just too hot,

A hot and stuffy hairdressers is really not my lot.

I’ll wear a pretty sun hat, though it’s getting rather heavy,

Nighttime braids for wavy curls, if I go out for a bevy. (Which I won’t.)

I’ll keep it covered from the sun,

So that it won’t dry out.

I’ll wear my hat, head band and plaits,

Stay home with tea and hug my cats.

I’ll tell myself in Autumn that there really is no use,

The wind will blow it everywhere, I’ll stick to my excuse.

Another hat and tighter braids to keep it from my face,

It will have to tide me over, can’t stand that wretched place.

It’s really getting thicker, 

But there’s nothing I can do.

I’ll wear my hat, head band and plaits,

Stay home with tea and hug my cats.

I’ll tell myself in Winter that it’s gone beyond a joke,

I check my purse to see what’s there, I’m really rather broke.

It’s getting really ratty and the ends all fly away,

It’s getting on my nerves now, every. single. day.

I’ll get the kitchen scissors,

And I’ll cut the ends myself.

I’ll wear my hat, head band and plaits,

Stay home with tea and hug my cats.