O flock of hair on my head!
today shall be the end of your reign,
as nemesis you are the bane of nightmares!
Alas, chop you I will
for the scalp is in eager need of fresh air!
end will, you reign of glory
by the cutters sword (gunting), he will kill you
and end shall be, to my worries of hair gel
and to what-shall-I-wear-my-hair-today!
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