Every dog has its day: Difference between revisions

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{{egg}}
{{songbook|[[File:Sleeping Dog (16082652639).jpg|450px|frameless|center]]}}
 
My dear old mum used to tell me <br />
My old mum always told me <br />
“Son, {{maxim|every dog has its day}}.” <br />  
“Son, every dog has its day.” <br />  
Now in dog years, I am {{strike|371|378}} years old, <br />  
Now in dog years, I am 336 years old, <br />  
but I still quietly sit on my mat <br />
but I still quietly sit on my mat <br />
& wonder when it will come <br />
& wonder when it will come <br />
Line 10: Line 9:
& the darkness draws in <br />
& the darkness draws in <br />
You see, I have this sinking feeling <br />
You see, I have this sinking feeling <br />
that it’s been and gone <br />
that it’s been and gone <br />
& I wasn’t paying attention <br />
I wasn’t paying attention <br />
& I missed it <br />
& I missed it. <br />
 
I put my head between my paws <br />
I put my head between my paws <br />
& sleep a little more <br />
& sleep a little more <br />
& dream of mum <br />
& dream of dear old mum. <br />


“There’s time, son, there’s time.” <br />
“There’s time, son, there’s time.” <br />
That's what she’d say <br />
That's what she’d say <br />
and she'd ruffle between my ears <br />
& she’d ruffle between my ears <br />
And I'd dream the day away.
“There’s [[Peasgood nonsuch|none such]] as good as you”. <br>
& I’d lie back down <br>
Beneath [[Peasgood nonsuch|the old apple tree]] <br>
& dream the day away.
 
{{egg}}{{c|Peotry}}

Latest revision as of 05:36, 16 August 2024

The Jolly Contrarian’s Songbook™
For those spontaneous campfire moments.
From the well-thumbed pages of the Jolly Contrarian’s songbook
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My dear old mum used to tell me
“Son, every dog has its day.”
Now in dog years, I am 371 378 years old,
but I still quietly sit on my mat
& wonder when it will come
& what it will be like
& as the shadows grow long
& the darkness draws in
You see, I have this sinking feeling
that it’s been and gone —
I wasn’t paying attention
& I missed it.

I put my head between my paws
& sleep a little more
& dream of dear old mum.

“There’s time, son, there’s time.”
That's what she’d say
& she’d ruffle between my ears
“There’s none such as good as you”.
& I’d lie back down
Beneath the old apple tree
& dream the day away.