i watch the way you move,
|
and i count by the way you press your eyes
|
and by the little things that put you down,
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ride the rails to where you are - help me thank you all,
|
let me fuck you all, and by the way you bitch and masturbate,
|
the bold ones carry on and on the way your prayer come up
|
and have fun - the way to carry on
|
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i'm a dog, i know, i'm a dog
|
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it's the only way, it's the corner stay
|
push the freight along and grant them all their little
|
|
goddamn shitty things
|
in the light it grows, slower than before,
|
"ten-four, they've got to burn, the 9.3 will come to carry on..."
|
|
gimme some of your good loving,
|
i need your good loving
|
|
dog, i'm a dog, i know i'm a dog,
|
i'm a dog, i know i'm a dog...
|
|
oh, elvis yer just standin' there and completely naked
|
|
and i's jest thinkin' to m'self
|
"goddamn-it boy! you've come a quite a little while for
|
|
such a little country doggie..."
|
|
and now he's touching himself in private
|
how may people do you know who can make it through
|
|
life without ever buying a goddamn vowel
|
|
-----------------
|
Drizzlehell
|
| Strapping Young Lad |
