Hair

Is something you keep in a locket
To remember that girl
Who wound your heart tighter than a clock
To wake you up for that first morning saying
"Hello, Sunshine!"

Than fingers flexed
Pullin' on hair floss
To cut your gums like a switchblade
Than ropes of muscle
Posin' for the affection of a girl
Whose hair you want to place in a locket
So as to keep a piece of her

Her, locked in a gold-plated box
Where her picture and DNA will forever reside
Till found by her great-granddaughter
In the attic with no light on
Where her grandmother used to live
Till yesterday

And now she's curious about her roots
And she climbed up those loosely nailed ladder steps
Up the trunk of her grandma's old house
That smelled like sycamore leaves
Fallen from November rains
Like sycamore leaves
That fell like grandma

But she wants to discover her branches
So she's digging through old trunks
And costume jewelry
Grandma wore when she met grandpa
And she was shining like a new quarter
Flashin' on the pavement

And old hats grandma used to wear
To cover her head
When even prayers were said
To remind her that she still had her hair
That grandpa fell in love with that first time

And old wigs grandma stopped wearing
After grandpa died
Cause there was no more point
To having beautiful hair
When the beautiful man
Who called her beautiful
Passed on to that beautiful place
Where her grandma now resided
And all that old stuff was beautiful
To the granddaughter

Who came across a piece of great-grandma
That was mummified
Museum-ized
By time and forgetfulness
Because there are some things
That we value so much
That we forget about them

Like an old locket
Hidden in the treehouse of our children's family trees
Filled with the split ends of hair
He captured from his sweet possession
While she brushed her hair eighty times before bed
So that it would always be shining
And full
And flowing for him

As though she was his pony
Waiting to ride after eighty strokes
Cause her woman-ness
Was not in her dress
But grew from out of her mind
And was displayed in private moonlight
And wound tight during the daylight

Like an old alarm clock
Waiting to wake you up on that first morning
Screaming, "Hello, Sunshine!"



Credits
Writer(s): Mark Barrionuevo
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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