It Ain’t A Dog’s Life No More
A long time ago I used to own a stray mutt.
Found the mongrel wandering near a sinister fairground.
He wasn't exactly what you’d call the most charming hound in the pound.
And sometimes he was a real pain in the butt.
I cared for him just the same.
You see, he was loyal; he would give his life for me.
But I saw it coming in his eyes... that darned curiosity.
Flickering like a flame.
It was getting the best of him.
He wanted to know what was on the other side of the forest.
So one winter morning I walked him outside; wanted to put his mind at rest.
Removed his chains. Set him free. And off went my pilgrim.
But it wasn't long before he came back.
Running to me, straight out of the fog.
There was something different about my dog.
He had a scar from his belly to his nut-sack.
And I knew right then: he was changed.
He never ran away again or tried to hide.
He never left my side.
But like I said, he was different. Somewhat estranged.
Because that day his growl turned into a deafening screech.
He learned that the world that lies beneath.
Remains unforgiving, relentless, and gnarls with sharper teeth.
And he learned the most valuable lesson that I could ever teach...
Life's a fight. Stand tall or snap under its strain.
It's a bitter pill to swallow. But show some dignity. Show some virtue.
Dog, you gotta get them before they get you.
And don't cry like a bitch when you feel the pain.
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