My hair is growing quite long, Virginia.
I’ve no concept of what to do with it,
if anything at all should be done.
I want to know what you do, Virginia,
when it’s late and you can’t fall asleep,
whether you ever dream at all.
There’s a dinner party tonight, Virginia.
If you were able to come, I’m not sure
whether I’d invite you anymore.
You must stop sulking like that, Virginia.
Your mind’s not for me, you know;
you’re robust but I grow differently.
But I’m working on something new, Virginia,
and I want to know what you do at night,
and what should be done with my hair.