Shorn me, so close that the skin shows.
On me, no more "grass" grows.
Shorn me, no more hair to part.

Skin gleams, and when I'm around you,
The glare will astound you;
I shine like the brightest star.

Pate sheen--now when I "moon" shine you,
That shine will be sans hairline,
And you won't eye my hein'.

Shorn me, I light up your livin'
Room if you're not given
'lectricity.

Pate sheen--now when my moon finds you,
That shine is above waistline,
No, you won't spy my hein'.

Shorn me, I like the bright glisten
Now that the hair's missin',
Since I'm shorn free.