Summer of 1978,
My sister and I in the back seat just wait.
We pass the time by making lines in the seat that we can't cross,
A thin line like dental floss.
She threw my new blue comb out the window,
somewhere on I-70.
Dad said, "I'm sorry, but we can't go back,"
We're never going back to get it.
It was the first comb I ever had.
Got it just that morning from my mom and my dad.
Light blue in color, I could never find another,
comb like that, big and fat...
So tell me, have you seen my comb?
Last time I saw it, it was in her hands,
And then it was bouncing down the road.
It wasn't fancy, it wasn't brown,
But now it might be found lying on the ground.
So tell me, have you seen my comb?
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