don’t be silly now and lift those ears back up
i stopped chasing the likes of you many years ago
i come here to scavenge the trash cans for left over luncheon
and i’ve been watching you since the day you first appeared
and i can tell you’re fed up with those fat molly birds
and the roar of the steel through the days haunts your dreams
whatever brought you here it’s all the way back there
and you seem a bit lost not belonging anywhere
so you might as well join me for a while in my lair
i’ve an old barn on a long abandoned farm
that will sing you a song when the wind plays the shingles
it’s dry and it’s warm and there’s plenty of straw
there’s field mice and spiders and a variety of crunchy bugs for desert
so you rub your head against the roof beams up there
and i’ll leave my marks in the corners down here
i’m happy you came we’ll have much to share
about the people we’ve known and the places we’ve been
and how basset hounds don’t know a snarl from a purr
when autumn and winter have made your tongue rougher
your voice sounding harsh and your hair stout as wire
you ears will pick up on the growing of grass
and the song of the barn, you will find, can soothe your desire
now i’ve always thought that you cats are like rivers
while dogs are like lakes and i finally know that it’s true
when you say that you followed the moon through the night
while i bark at her trying to pull up a tide
let me tell you the next time she calls you
to part and to start up your next life somewhere
you may leave here and never remember this dog,
a word that i spoke, but there’s some things that linger
your tongue will be rougher, your voice sounding harsher,
your hair will be wiry, you’ll still hear the growing of grass
and though every sound be forgotten some day
you will always remember the song of the barn