How does it feel to be all taangly and matted? When Im bored you are always there for me to play with, twist and style. You help me when im nervous by plopping when i shake you. Youre the product of concious laziness that I have come to take seriously. I wouldnt betray you with blades of normalness for I have made a vow to keep you. When its raining i can feel you always on the back of my neck letting me know youre there. I take the best care of you I wash you once every three days. When I think of changing i cant im stuck in my old ways. In tangles in a congo bongo webb that I dont wanna be free from. Im never alone because whereever I go you are there. The African history that came with it you have made i your own. If you could speak what would you say will you approve or deny?