In the attic, hidden away,
Lies a magical comb, they say.
Its teeth are made of stardust bright,
And it sings to the moon each night.
Oh, the curious comb, it dances and hums,
Untangling secrets and dreams it becomes.
With every stroke through tangled hair,
It weaves stories of wonder in the midnight air.
The comb once belonged to a mermaid fair,
Who combed her seaweed locks with care.
She whispered tales of shipwrecks and pearls,
And the comb listened, its teeth all a-twirl.
Oh, the curious comb, it dances and hums,
Untangling secrets and dreams it becomes.
With every stroke through tangled hair,
It weaves stories of wonder in the midnight air.
One day, a pirate found the comb by chance,
He combed his beard, lost in a trance.
The comb revealed maps to hidden treasure,
And the pirate set sail with newfound pleasure.
Oh, the curious comb, it dances and hums,
Untangling secrets and dreams it becomes.
With every stroke through tangled hair,
It weaves stories of wonder in the midnight air.
So if you find a comb with a glimmering sheen,
Listen closely-it might share what it's seen.
For the curious comb, with its magical tou.