Ode to a mullet

Mullet? Maybe
Or just curls of a baby
Either way, you cop some flack
When one takes a punt
To say it’s business at front
And party at the back

With your Papa’s thick hair
And Italian flair
Those genes would surely come through
It remains to be seen
Why no red, white and green
But a hairstyle that’s pretty ‘true blue’

It is a great shame
Mullet’s such a strange name
No wonder the hairdo gets shunned
Not like the fish
But I do often wish
Your onlookers would be less stunned

Some people say
Did you cut it that way?
Is this what you planned for your son?
Let the record be shown
That it grew on its own
And it’s turned out to be the best fun

When the truth is revealed
Against popular appeal
I love those wisps of gold
They may well laugh
But they’ll need a scarf
Your neck will never get cold

It might sound quite blunt
But I don’t want it cut
Even if it starts to look creepy
It could cause distress
If I dared to hairdress
That mullet you twirl when you’re sleepy

Mullet’s one way
Or pronounced mull-ay
French makes it sound much more dapper
In a contest of style
You’d win by a mile
Even against Warwick Capper

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Warwick Capper.
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