Barber Chair Confessions

[Verse 1] Morning light cuts through the pane, A faded sign swings in the lane, Combs and scissors line the wall, A bell above the door will call. [Verse 2] Old man takes his weekly seat, Whispers low about the heat, A young one talks of love and doubt, The barber nods and lets it out. [Pre-Chorus] Scissors click like distant drums, A hum of news that never comes, Steam and powder fill the air, Strangers fold their lives in there. [Chorus] Spin the chair and let it flow, Stories that the mirrors know, Every cut is half a prayer, Every silence, half a share. [Verse 3] A bride rehearses what to say, A son describes his father's way, A man who's lost his steady job, Confesses patience as a job. [Verse 4] The radio plays yesterday, A song that no one can replay, The razor glides along the skin, Confessions buried deep within. [Instrumental Solo] [Bridge] Hair falls down like drifting snow, A momentary, soft tableau, When the chair returns to square, You leave a weight you didn't bear. [Chorus] Spin the chair and let it flow, Stories that the mirrors know, Every cut is half a prayer, Every silence, half a share. [Outro] The bell will ring, the door swings wide, You walk back home with lighter pride, And on the floor a single strand, A memory cut by a steady hand.