As the time tick tocks,
I brush my locks,
Shiny and long,
They sing along.
The breeze whispers with childlike
glee,
And
I hum in joy ‘tress and me, oh my tress
and me!
Yes,
it’s the magic of TRESemmé.’
Velvety, glossy and ombre,
Flirty strands let loose slender,
With bouncy waves towards the end,
I love my each and every strand.
The hair dryer too sings love’s
sweet plea,
And
I hum in joy ‘tress and me, oh my tress
and me!
Yes,
it’s the magic of TRESemmé.’
With a comb of pearl,
I knot a few of my curls,
A little undone but still so done,
The texture smooth, all ready to
stun.
I run my fingers softly through
thee,
And
I hum in joy ‘tress and me, oh my tress
and me!
Yes,
it’s the magic of TRESemmé.’
He waits down the aisle,
As I glide through the mile,
With hair golden beneath the veil,
Hairdo elegant yet so rebel,
As I say ‘I do’ to the man I see,
My
heart still hums ‘tress and me, oh my
tress and me!
Yes,
it’s the magic of TRESemmé.’
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