Barbershop, Nine in the morning
Everybody's snoring
And my hairs too long
I'm going out tonight
But I cant with a trim like this
My barnet is fucking shit
I open the door
And the nice man greets me
But he's looking sleepy
I think I'm fucked
He looks at me with a tired stare
There's tension in the air
The clippers touch my head
Don't you dare
Fuck up my hair
I've got places to be
I've got mates to see
Don't you dare
Fuck up my hair
I've got places to be
I've got mates to see
I look in the mirror
My hair is so much shitter
He's done me over
I Didn't ask for a combover
I walk to the counter cash in hand
Secretly fuming
I look so bad
This is the worst trim I've ever had
Don't you dare
Fuck up my hair
I've got places to be
I've got mates to see
Don't you dare
Fuck up my hair
I've got places to be
I've got mates to see