Get a haircut kid

Mom says I look like a mop in a windstorm

Principal says I’m a threat to the dress code norm

Barber’s got scissors but I’ve got a dream

Of bangs in my eyes and a punk rock scream

They say “clean up,” I say “grow out”

My fringe is a flag and I’m waving it loud

Get a haircut, kid — you’re scaring the neighbors

Your split ends are plotting against polite favors

Get a haircut, kid — you’ll never get hired

But I’d rather be weird than be well admired

I dyed it green just to spite the machine

Now I’m banned from the mall and the Dairy Queen

They say “you’ll regret it,” I say “that’s the point”

I’m a walking rebellion with a messy joint

Buzz cuts and crew cuts, they all look the same

I’m a shaggy manifesto with a middle name:

“Don’t tell me what to do” — it’s tattooed on my scalp

My hair’s a protest, not a cry for help

Snip snip — conformity’s creeping

Clip clip — but I’m still believing

That chaos is beauty, and tangles are truth

So I’ll grow it out long like the angst of my youth

Get a haircut, kid — you’re a walking disaster

But I’d rather be loud than a silent imposter

Get a haircut, kid — they’ll never understand

That my hair’s not a mess, it’s a statement, man

So trim your opinions and buzz off your shame

I’ll keep my locks wild and my spirit untamed