Away Goes the Good Hair

Away goes the good hair
For floof we all mourn
Our dear sainted Scully
Is tragic'lly shorn.
The fans in TV land
Look down where it falls
The Hair Arc concludes with
Our heartbroken squalls.

Our Scully ignores all
Her pains and her aches
With hands faintly trembling
A towel she takes.
She covers her sweet head
To our shouts of dismay -
Her soul has been murdered
For her crime she should pay.

Our poor tortured Scully
We cannot redeem.
She's lost our respect and
Our highest esteem.
A part of her essence
Will never come back -
Her honour departed
With that first scissor hack.




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