Wig In A Box - Stephen Trask, John Cameron Mitchell

On nights like this

When the world’s a bit amiss

And the lights go down

Across the trailer park

I get down

I feel had

I feel on the verge of going mad

And then it’s time to punch the clock

I put on some make-up

And turn up the tape deck

And pull the wig down on my head

Suddenly I’m Miss Midwest

Midnight Checkout Queen

Until I head home

And put myself to bed

I look back on where I’m from

Look at the woman I’ve become

And the strangest things

Seem suddenly routine

I look up from my vermouth on the rocks

A gift-wrapped wig still in the box

Of towering velveteen

I put on some make-up

And some LaVern Baker

And pull the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I’m Miss Beehive 1963

Until I wake up

And turn back to myself

Some girls they have natural ease

They wear it any way they please

With their French flip curls

And perfumed magazines

Wear it up

Let it down

This is the best way that I’ve found

To be the best you’ve ever seen

I put on some make-up

And turn up the eight-track

I’m pulling the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I’m Miss Farrah Fawcett

From TV

Until I wake up

And turn back to myself

Shag, bi-level, bob

Dorothy Hamill do

Sausage curls, chicken wings

It’s all because of you

With your blow dried, feather back

Toni home wave, too

Flip, fro, frizz, flop

It’s all because of you

It’s all because of you

It’s all because of you

I put on some make-up

Turn up the eight-track

I’m pulling the wig down from the shelf

Suddenly I’m this punk rock star

Of stage and screen

And I ain’t never

I’m never turning back