They call me Mr. Baldy.
No hair is on my head.
My head is smooth and soft.
It looks just like an egg.
I’ve tried all kinds of tonics,
But they just make me want to wheeze.
Not one blade of hair crops up.
Instead, I constantly need to sneeze.
I’m only forty-two years old.
My hair loss is premature.
So after trying for two straight years,
I’ve given up finding a cure.
No expensive hair weaving.
No toupee on my head.
Just chrome dome is my fate to be.
It’s time to go to bed.