Writer: Melanie Safka
© Melanie Safka

No matter how far you jog
Or how your muscles grow
You left love for nothing
And your still bald
Your still bald, bald

You know you're over forty
And your wife let herself go
And no one understands you
But that cute twenty year old
But your still bald
Bald to the bone

You wear bald-headed shoes
And bald-headed jeans
Your wife's home with the children
And your out there doiní a scene
Your still bald
Bald to the bone

You say there's hair clubs, weaves and transplants
And things to make it grow
But underneath that head of hair
Is a man who ain't got his own
And your still bald, oh, bald
Bald to the bone