His name was Mickey the Feuermester
He was in charge of firing all the kilns
And he relished the gas firing when
He would get so close to the burners that
He'd almost torch his red
English, tycoon, handlebar mustache.
Mickey was no-nonsense but
He had one favorite hobby
And that was to to to Natasha's
A unisex coiffeuse who
Knew how to do him just right.
Even during hot summer days
Mickey would take his time
Under the hairdryer he felt at peace
As if the machine could cool his hot temper
After all Natasha had pushed her warm body
Suited in a white smock with boots that laced to her knees
Against Micky and
Clipped and clipped and clipped
Snipping what evil spirits dangled from his head.
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