Love is hairy, stubbly stuff
shave all week it's never enough
whether I shave it or slather on Nair
whack it or hack it will always be there.

Keeps coming back as much as you crop it
waxing and chemicals can’t even stop it
try to ignore it, the nubs comes in thick
even my eyebrows, a uni-brow chick.

Come Saturday I don’t really care
let it grow outta my underwear
Let it alone, that unruly mop
looks like I got me a nice bumper crop

This is my way, ain’t gonna change
my love and my hair are looking deranged
Sitting there pondering love and love's looks
flippin’ through Cosmo and metrosex books

Beauty is bare in my favorite rag
Nary a hairy or haggard old nag
Eyebrows are separate and carefully arched
Lips are injected and never seem parched.

Legs are **** smooth, and so are are the pits
Love is not given to hairy chick fits.
Speaking of nares, mine is exempt
The nose and the ears are extremely well kempt.

Sunday mornin’ rolls around
but his razor can’t be found....
I call out his name and wait for an answer
his ditty bag’s gone could It be that dancer?

The one that he watches the one he admires
could she be the one whose igniting his fires?
I’ve seen her there waiting the picture of grace
smooth, fair and agile not a hair out of place

I sit on the edge of the tub shocked and numb
look in the mirror then look at my thumb
I eye up the woman whose not spent a dime
on personal pleasures as though it’s a crime

My overgrown garden could not see the light
missed out on the sweetness, bare skin’s delight
Bought into myth and every girls hope
that she’d still be worth something without any soap.

Rummaged around in a drawer feeling sick
through my tears I lay hold of my old Lady Bic
Slipped into the shower convinced he despised me
lathered and cried, none of this has surprised me

He'd seemed a bit distant, preoccupied,
the more I persisted, the less satisfied
I should have considered my Love is not blind
his eyes are like sponges his vision will find

The best of the beauties the cream of the crop
as sweet sugar blossoms parade past his shop
I have an epiphany there in the suds
Time's never wasted on pruning the buds

Better to nip 'em if you're feelin manly
can't be mistaken for Charles or Stanley.
Lord knows the time I've put in at Curves
not that i see any good that it serves

So who really cares if he's after that minx
just between us we know how she stinks
Let him go sister try rising above
'cause if that's all he's after it ain't really love.

Making my plans to rip up his picture
wipe out his memory no longer a fixture
I can't say that I needed nor much that I cared
for the man or his ***** laundry I've aired

When into my steamy retreat disconcerted
the voice of the man I was sure had deserted.
I silence my heart and put down the Bic
ease back the curtain and see my St. Nick

The hairy faced heathen battered and worn
face kind of prickly needs to be shorn.
'What is THIS? 'he demands and holds out his hand
'Why, a worn out old mach 3, the triple edge brand! '

"I just CHANGED this blade and the thing's dull and rusted!"
"Heck if I know", but I know I’ve been busted.
Step out of the shower bare skin drippin' wet
'At this rate I think I’ll buy stock in Gillette.'

I hold out my Bic and smile at old Bones
"Would you like me to light your cigar, Mr. Jones?"
Leave him to his business, which won’t include the shave
Love is stubbly,love is soft and hairy to the grave.

I asked for the color I had as a child
"I don't think so", he said, and that's putting it mild~

I went to get up from the chair but soon found
the weight of that bib thing was weighing me down~

the eyes of the stylist, so cold and unkind
were narrowing as he approached from behind~

and in his hand something we both recognized
'twas the braid from my worst childhood fears realized!

The one he'd cut off right here at the neck
and left me there wearing a '****'... what the heck!

"You don't want this color, it's way too outdated
and what could be duller, than the one God created~

What you need now is product I'LL mix
a light honey blond with some purple, to fix

the damage you did with your cheap color tricks,
and the thing I hate MOST about all of you chicks!"

"Barberian justice would snip off your locks,
but you've suffered far worse when you turned to the box~

and then to add 'insult', you pulled through the cap
and expecting great highlights, got dried out straw crap.

Next time we'll just give you a "shorty", it's called,
don't mess with my color or you may wind up bald!