In the land where I lived
there was giant hair.
In the land where I lived
it was attached to a squirrel.

This giant hair and this little squirrel 
danced in the fields.
This giant hair and the little squirrel
were quite nice.

But then along came that ugly thing
I think his name was Stan.
Stan was a man, as surely I am,
and he liked to cut things.

Stan liked to cut hair, yes, it's true.
Stan wanted to cut the squirrel's hair.
And if you cut a magic squirrel's hair
you must accept the doom that's there.

The doom it spread and unfolded, 
exploring everything.
The doom it could not be controlled
and so it sat upon old Stan.
And so it consumed that ugly man.

But what happened to the squirrel
freed from all that hair.
He could not have a thing to put
under his hat, not there.

He was so sad, he was so true,
he loved to put a hat on hair.
So he lives in the park
and if you go, beware.

He will steal your hat
and put it on your hair.