Gone with the Breeze: A Tale of Luke's Hairline

[Verse] Luke’s dome, lookin’ like a desert storm, Hairline fleein’, abandon, no conform. Bristles scarce, Madd Max in his scalp, Each bristle screamin’, for a permanent leave-out. [Verse 2] Crown of chaos, follicles in retreat, Hair migration, too rapid to beat. Mirror watch, Luke sees the slow eclipse, Baldness comin’, straight from his tips. [Chorus] Luke’s recedere, head turns to breeze, Flowin’ follicles lost, whisked to the seas. Hold tight, hair flight, vanity on lease, Luke keeps fightin’, but the line won’t cease. [Verse 3] Hair products line up, soldiers at war, Rogaine battalions, Nioxin on the floor. Hope fades, head’s gettin’ more bare, Hairline’s bid adieu, venture into the air. [Verse 4] Winds of change, grant no mercy to Luke, Scalp betrays him, sheer somber rebuke. Comb's a trucker, can’t navigate this route, Tired bristles, gon’ pack up, scoot. [Chorus] Luke’s recedere, head turns to breeze, Flowin’ follicles lost, whisked to the seas. Hold tight, hair flight, vanity on lease, Luke keeps fightin’, but the line won’t cease.