Wig In A Box - Stephen Trask

Written by：Brad Wood

On nights like this

When the world's a bit amiss

And the lights go down across the trailer park

I get down I feel had

I feel on the verge of going mad

And then it's time to punch the clock

I put on some make up

And turn on the tape deck

And pull the wig back on my head

Suddenly I'm Miss Midwest Midnight checkout queen

Until I head home

And I put myself to bed

I look back on where I'm from

Look at the woman I've become

And the strangest things seem suddenly routine

I look up from my Vermouth on the rocks

The gift wrapped wig still in the box

Of towering velveteen

I put on some make up

Some Lavern Baker

I'm pulling the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I'm Miss Beehive 1963

Until I wake up

And I turn back to myself

Some girls they have natural ease

They wear it any way they please

With their French flip curls and perfumed magazines

Wear it up let it down

This is the best way that I've found

To be the best you've ever seen

I put on some make up

Turn on the eight tack

I'm pulling the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I'm Miss Farrah Fawcett from TV

Until I wake up

And I turn back to myself

Shag bi level Bob Dorothy Hamill do

Sausage curl chicken wings it's all because of you

With your blow dried feather backed Toni home wave too

Flip for frizz flop it's all because of you

It's all because of you it's all because of you

Okay

Everybody

I put on some make up

Turn up the eight track

I'm pulling the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I'm this punk rock star of stage and screen

And I ain't never

I'm never turning back