I’d lie on the counter and she’d wash it real good
And then she’d tie it in knots
Until it got as dry as it could  

Then on the back of her hand she’d smear royal  crown
The hot comb crackling on the hot gas stove
Lord knows, I hated that sound

And then Grandma would say:

“Sit still baby in this little red chair
Somebody bring me my stool, I’m tired
And this child sho got a lot of hair”