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Ty Deepest Thoughts and Emotions
(I Love My Hair)
By the deeply tortured,folically blessed Angel

You have no idea what itís like to have done the things Iíve done, and to care.
(Hey, do you like my hair?)

I take out my violin, and play a simple tune.
(Iím gonna have to re-do the highlights, soon.)

Someday, I know, Buffyíll turn me to dust.
(Damn, my locks look kinda mussed.)

The night provides a comforting hush.
(Where in Hell is my favorite brush?)

Iím all alone, I have no home.
(Nevermind, hereís my comb.)

Whistler: I haven't seen him with the hat off, to this day. I have no idea, what Iíll do...
(I use real expensive shampoo.)

I want to feed, I want to dine.
(I *really* want my hair to shine.)

I made them weep, I made them cry.
(Ahg, my hair! Should I blow it dry?)

At this point, I truly know Iím dead.
(But, I can still take care of whatís on my head!)


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