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Songs About Dogs
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Subject: An Seann Chu Bochd From: Felipa Date: 30 Nov 22 - 02:04 PM http://www.geocities.ws/Paris/LeftBank/4843/seancu.html a poem in Scottish Gaelic by Murdo MacFarlane (Murchadh MacPharlain, Bàrd Mealbhoist, 1901-1982), translation by Tom Thompson. I don't know if anyone has set it to music; I suspect not. An dé thuirt m'athair riumsa "Bi falbh is bàth an seann chù; Tha nis an cuilean air fàs mór, 'S tha aon gu leòr bith ann diubh." Cha do dh'fhalbh mi deònach, 'S ann a dh'fhalbh mi brònach; An seann chù bochd is e de'n beachd E bhith dol chun na mòintich. Do lean e mi gun iarraidh; Sud chun a chladaich sìor sinn. O 's dall tha daoine 's coin air cuin A dh'fhaodas tigh'nn a' chrioch orr'! Bha'n gnìomh am' shùilean gràineil, 'S an aghaidh mo ghné 's mo chàile; An seann chù bochd, anns nach robh lochd, 'S mise dol g'a bàthadh. Nuair a lorg mi dòirneag, 'S nuair a shnaim mi ròp oirr' Bha sùilean sèimh an t-seann choin bhochd "Carson tha so?" ri feòrach. Is math g'eil foluicht' bhuainne 'S gun cheileadh uatsa 's uamsa An t-àm ri teachd, a sheann chòin bhochd, No bhiodh ar beatha truagh dheth. Tha 'm bàs an gné gach beò, 's tha 'd 'Gam breìth le dul mu'n sgòrnan, Is luath no mall, a sheann choin bhochd, An dul ud, druidear oirnne. Ged's fiosraich mis' an dràsda Air cho dlùth 's tha 'm bàs dhuit, Tha cheart cho dall mi, sheann choin bhochd, Air m' àm 's tha thus' an tràth so. Ach chan eil thus air d'bhuaireadh Mar tha mis' le smuaintean Mun am ri teachd, a sheann choin bhochd, 'S cha cheisd taobh thall a h-uaigh dhuit. No cuid tha 'n t-olc cho làidir, 'S gun saltradh math bho shàil e; 'S carson bhiodh fuath ri toirt na buaidh, 'S ri cur na ruaig air gràdh tric. Ar bith 's ar beath' gu dearbh tha Mar gheàrr-réis reult an earbuill A sgeitheas tiota dubh na h-oidhch', 'N sin shluigeas i gun lorg oirr'. Mar so bidh tric mi meòrach, ma 's glic dhomh so na gòrach, Saoil thus an saor-thoil a bheil feum Ma tha gach ceum roimh-òrduicht? No a bheil ann an làmhaibh Mhic-an-duine air fhàgail Seadh, falmadair a bheatha féin Gu stiùireadh far an àill leis? 'N sin sguir mi ris a chòmhradh, 'S chuir an làimh a spòg e ... Mar gum biodh an seann-chù bochd A leigeil slàn ri m' bheò leam. Nuair dhruid mi sìos mu chluasaibh An dul, 's a theannaich cruaidh e, Bu chianail sgal an t-seann choin bhochd, 'S 'ga fhreagairt gach creag ghruamach. 'N sin thuirt mi ris gu bàigheil, "A chaoidh cha bhàth am bàrd thu; An iochd a phlanndraich Dia am uchd, Cha dèan cuain a bhàthadh." 'N sin dh'fhàg mi chlach 's an ròp oirr', 'S na tuinn gun iochd shìos foidhpe. 'S e beachd an t-seann choin bhochd a nochd Gur nighean truais tha 'n tròcair. Translation Yesterday my father told me "Go and drown the old dog. The puppy has grown up now, and one of them is enough." I didn't go willingly, in fact I went sadly. The poor old dog, and him thinking he was going to the hills. He followed me without question; there we went down to the shore. Oh ignorant are men and dogs about when their end may come upon them. I saw the deed as loathsome, quite against my nature and my inclination; the poor old dog, which had no fault, and me going to drown it. When I searched out a stone, and when I tied a rope to it, the gentle eyes of the poor old dog were asking "what's this for?" It's good that it has been hidden from us, and that it should be concealed from me and from you, the time to come, poor old dog, else our life would be sad for it. Death is in the nature of all living things, and they are born with nooses round their necks, and sooner or later, poor old dog, that noose, they will pull it tight on us. Although I am aware now of how close death is to you, I am just as ignorant, poor old dog, of my time as you are just now. But you haven't been bothering yourself with thoughts, as I have, about the time to come, poor old dog, and you aren't concerned about what's beyond the grave. Nor about why evil is so powerful that it treads good under its heel; and why should hate win the victories and inflict defeats on love often. Our existence and our lives are truly like the short courses of shooting stars that briefly interrupt the black of night, which then swallows them up without trace. Thus I'm often pensive, whether this be wise of me or silly, I wonder if free will has any basis if every step is pre-ordained? Or whether it is indeed left in the hands of a son of man to steer the rudder of his own life where he would like? Then I stopped talking, and he put his paw in my hand as if the poor old dog were bidding me farewell for ever. When I pulled the noose down around his ears, and tightened it hard, the poor old dog's howl was pitiful, echoing from every gloomy rock. Then I said to him joyfully "The poet will never drown you, the mercy that God planted in my breast, no sea shall drown it." Then I left the stone with the rope on it, the pitiless waves down below it. Tonight the poor old dog thinks that compassion is the mother of mercy. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: Greum Date: 24 Aug 22 - 02:21 PM I feel sure I remember there was a song by Les Barker entitled something like What do dogs do when they get a bogie up their nose. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: sciencegeek Date: 19 Aug 22 - 09:38 AM Mike fell in love with Henry Lawson's The Cattle Dog's Death and set it to music The Cattle-Dog’s Death The Plains lay bare on the homeward route, And the march was heavy on man and brute; For the Spirit of Drought was on all the land, And the white heat danced on the glowing sand. The best of our cattle-dogs lagged at last, His strength gave out ere the plains were passed, And our hearts grew sad when he crept and laid His languid limbs in the nearest shade. He saved our lives in the years gone by, When no one dreamed of the danger nigh, And the treacherous blacks in the darkness crept On the silent camp where the drovers slept. ‘The dog is dying,’ a stockman said, As he knelt and lifted the shaggy head; ‘’Tis a long day’s march ere the run be near, ‘And he’s dying fast; shall we leave him here?’ But the super cried, ‘There’s an answer there!’ As he raised a tuft of the dog’s grey hair; And, strangely vivid, each man descried The old spear-mark on the shaggy hide. We laid a ‘bluey’ and coat across The camping pack of the lightest horse, And raised the dog to his deathbed high, And brought him far ’neath the burning sky. At the kindly touch of the stockmen rude His eyes grew human with gratitude; And though we parched in the heat that fags, We gave him the last of the water-bags. The super’s daughter we knew would chide If we left the dog in the desert wide; So we brought him far o’er the burning sand For a parting stroke of her small white hand. But long ere the station was seen ahead, His pain was o’er, for the dog was dead And the folks all knew by our looks of gloom ’Twas a comrade’s corpse that we carried home. have the mp3 if interested |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: GUEST,mayomick Date: 13 Aug 22 - 10:06 AM Irish Rover, woof woof |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: GUEST,Dave H Date: 13 Aug 22 - 07:57 AM ' I have Been A Rover ' Dave H |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: Acorn4 Date: 13 Aug 22 - 06:42 AM Monty - song about a neurotic dachshund - I call this type of dog "ratweilers" |
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Subject: ADD: Sam (Sturgill Simpson) From: Joe Offer Date: 13 Aug 22 - 12:09 AM I don't know anything about Sturgill Simpson, but I sure like this song. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qOpAXzr1W1U SAM (Sturgill Simpson) Well, a good dog on the ground's worth three in the saddle, no matter where you're from Been many good dog was a friend to a man, but Sam was the greatest one He was hound of hounds He was the wonder of all walkers He loved howlin' at the moon He loved treein' that racoon Most of all, he was my best friend and he's gone too soon He was the runt of the litter But a plenty mean pup Put Sam on the scent, and he never let up Spent his nights on the porch, chewin' on a bare bone Now he's underground, and I'm all alone Well, a good dog on the ground's worth three in the saddle, no matter where you're from Been many good dog was a friend to a man, but Sam was the greatest one He was hound of hounds He was the wonder of all walkers He loved howlin' at the moon He loved treein' that racoon Most of all, he was my best friend, and he's gone too soon |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: peteglasgow Date: 27 Dec 19 - 11:50 AM 'Small Car' by Marvin Pontiac is great jazz/blues/lyrical and rhythmical. it's about tiny farmers in their small cars and involves 'one inch barking dogs' really very unusual - i'd be very grateful if someone could post a link so all could enjoy it. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: GUEST,BoB Date: 27 Dec 19 - 11:02 AM One of my favorite Dog Songs: Police Dog Blues - Blind Blake All my life I've been a travelin' man All my life I've been a travelin' man Stayin' alone and doin' the best I can I shipped my trunk down to Tennessee I shipped my trunk down to Tennessee Hard to tell about a man like me I met a gal, I couldn't get her off my mind I met a gal, I couldn't get her off my mind She passed me up, said she didn't like my kind I'm scared to bother around her house at night I'm scared to bother around her house at night She got a police dog cravin' for a fight His name is Rambler, when he gets a chance His name is Rambler, when he gets a chance He leaves his mark on everybody's pants Guess I'll travel, I guess I'll let her be Guess I'll travel, I guess I'll let her be Before she sicks her police dog on me https://archive.org/details/blind_blake_police_dog_blues |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: GUEST,keberoxu Date: 27 Dec 19 - 09:04 AM ... "I tol' that dog about ev' - ry - thing ... " |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: peteglasgow Date: 27 Dec 19 - 02:56 AM sorry if it's been mentioned before (don't have time to read it all as i have to get up and take our beautiful lurcher, Rosa, out. Neil Young's Old King strikes me as a great love song - but about a dog for a change. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: POLLY HAD A POODLE (Matt McGinn) From: Jim Dixon Date: 26 Dec 19 - 05:15 PM POLLY HAD A POODLE As recorded by Matt McGinn on "Little Ticks of Time" (1969) CHORUS: Polly had a poodle-o, poodle-o, poodle-o. Polly had a poodle-o, piddled all the day. Piddled on the carpet, piddled on the chair, Piddled on the sofa, piddled on the flair [=floor]. Polly's poodle piddled all the day. 1. Polly brought the polis in to gie the dog a boot. When he he come in, the doggie had a wee run oot. CHORUS 2. The farmers all around had a very heavy yield. They hired polly's poodle to irrigate the field. CHORUS 3. They took him out to India; there they let him out. Since the day he got there, they've never had a drought. CHORUS 4. If Wullie …(?) fitba, he knew all the rules. He never missed a post when he was daein(?) the pools. CHORUS TWICE |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: raredance Date: 10 Aug 17 - 01:28 AM Ballad of Boomer Jack by Greg Schindel Fred by Tom Paxton My Dog's Bigger than Yours by Tom Paxton Bird Dog - John McCuteheon & Si Kahn Molly's Field by Chuck Suchey Hound Dog by Anne Hills Hound Dog by Odetta I Love That Dog by Connie Kaldor The Dog Sat in the Tucker Box by John Greenway Like a Dog by Greg Brown Old Dogs by Bill Staines Run All You Big Dogs by Nina Nastasia Red Dog in the Morning by Tim O'Brien Sporting Dogs by Johnny Collins Tennessee Dog by Mike Seeger The Mailman Cometh by Ann Reed Dog Eat Dog by Joni Mitchell |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: raredance Date: 10 Aug 17 - 01:05 AM Also a couple by Matt McGinn. "The Pekinese Dog" "Polly had a Poodle" |
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Subject: Lyr Add: BIG BLACK DOG (Emmylou Harris) From: raredance Date: 10 Aug 17 - 01:04 AM Don't know if "Big Black Dog" by Emmylou Harris has been mentioned.
BIG BLACK DOG
A big black dog |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: raredance Date: 10 Aug 17 - 12:28 AM I heard Michael Cooney sing this song on the radio back in the 80s. I happened to have the tape recorder running and I have been singing it ever since. I call it "Sheepdog". I don't know what Michael calls it. Such a dreadful thing is life, She was going to be my wife. Linda was her name, I loved her sweet and true. A week before our wedding day, My darling gentle fiancé , Killed in such and awful way, Oh, what's a boy to do. Oh my heart is full of pain, It's more than I can bear The honeymoon won't be the same Without my Linda there. She was going into town To pick up here wedding gown. She was going by the church In which we were to wed. When suddenly, I know no why. When suddenly, I do not lie. When suddenly a sheepdog fell And hit her on the head. They say we should not question why, That god must have a plan; But sheepdogs falling from the sky, I do not understand. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: JUST AN OLD CATTLE DOG (Slim Dusty) From: Jim Dixon Date: 09 Aug 17 - 11:17 PM JUST AN OLD CATTLE DOG As recorded by Slim Dusty on "Travellin' Still … Always Will" (2002) His ears are all tattered; his hide is all battered and worn, For he's been number one on the cattle run since he was born. His old eyes light up when he knows there's work to be done, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. Though his old eyes have dimmed as the years have just trimmed him away, Still he's proud and he's game; he'll be there at the end of the day. Right there by his side in his footsteps he'll faithfully come, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. He's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run, But he's long in the tooth now; I reckon his race nearly run. Ah, but he'll be remembered for many years after he's gone, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. His spirit is strong though his body is tired and old. He'll still follow the boss through the long days just sharing the load From the first light of dawn everyday to the set of the sun, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. There's a tree by the homestead where many old mates have been laid, And the old dog just knows that he'll join them one day in the shade. He'll be laid down to rest in that Billeroy soil when he's done, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. He's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run, But he's long in the tooth now; I reckon his race nearly run. Ah, but he'll be remembered for many years after he's gone, 'Cause he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. Yeah, he's just an old cattle dog out on the Billeroy run. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: A POLITICIAN'S DOG From: Jim Dixon Date: 09 Aug 17 - 07:41 PM This is done in the style of talking blues. A POLITICIAN'S DOG Written by Billy Ed Wheeler As recorded by Layne Brooks on the various-artists collection "Doggone Country: Favorite Songs about Dogs" (2008) Well, now, I was born on a Texas ranch, But it seems like I never did get the chance To cut the mustard like my daddy Rover, Roll in the grass and get dirty all over. I'm a dog. Registered beagle. The name of our little ol' ranch was the LBJ. When I's just a long-eared, wet-nosed pup, Big daddy Lyndon came an' picked me up, Held me seven feet in the Texas sky And he said to a bunch o' news men standin' by: "His name's Him. Him's a he-dog." Some o' them fellows didn't believe him, had to look for themselves. Well, I picked up all the hound-dog habits, Coolin' fire-plugs an' chasin' rabbits, Even had one or two lady friends, But that's where the end o' my fun begins, Because one day the president pulled my ear And he said: "Sorry, Him; it's an election year." Flash bulbs popped like a machine gun, An' I knew right then I'd have to help him run. Me in luck, wantin' some night life. Just a big ol' frustrated beagle in a jet airplane. Well me an' my sister Her set sail With LBJ on the campaign trail, Tryin' to keep the Republicans fumin', Flyin' around till I's sick as a human, Workin' all day and stayin' up late, Lickin' tourists through the White-House gate, Nibblin' congressmen, keepin' them nervous, Playin' hide-an'-seek with the Secret Service, Trackin' down Russians. Bitin' ambassadors. Tryin' to learn how to bark in a foreign language. I tell you right now it's gettin' me down. Ever' time a king or a queen hits town, The vet hurries over an' combs my hair, Clips my nails and sprays me ev'rywhere Till I smell like a hundred magnolia trees, And the powder flies ever' time I sneeze. I could leave all this stuff alone For a good case o' fleas an' one ol' bone, But that's politics. Had to get out the vote. Sleep with a stopped-up nose in an air-conditioned dog-house. [This was originally recorded by Uncle Jud Crowfield and the New Kentucky Travelers in 1965, and was soon covered by Billy Ed Wheeler and Ferlin Husky.] [Is a recording properly called a "cover" if it's sung by the guy who wrote it, but he wasn't the first to record it? In other words, can a singer "cover" his own song?] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE POODLE DOG SONG From: Jim Dixon Date: 09 Aug 17 - 07:00 PM THE POODLE DOG SONG As recorded by Layne Brooks on the various-artists collection "Doggone Country: Favorite Songs about Dogs" (2008) Now I'm gon' tell ya 'bout a dog I got, born in Kansas City. I picked him up in New Orleans; I thought he was so pretty. He's crazy 'bout his lemon pie, loves to eat green onions, And diggin' 'taters from the ground, his paws are full o' bunions. CHORUS: He's my pretty little poodle dog. Got a face just like a frog. Oh, my pretty little poodle, doodle-doodle-doodle, Pretty little poodle-doodle dog. REPEAT He fell in love with a rooster once, who lived down near my cabin, And ev'ry night when the sun went down, these two would start to gabbin'. My little poodle would start to bark; the rooster would spring his crowin', And the way these two would bill and coo, you'd think the wind was blowin'. CHORUS TWICE Well, they kept this up for six long months, and then one night they fighted. My little poodle came a-limpin' home and he was all excited. He came right up to me and said: "Please don't give me a lickin'. Just get out the grease and the fryin' pan because we gonna have fried chicken." CHORUS TWICE [This was apparently first recorded by Jimmie Davis in 1950, but I haven't heard that version.] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: I FOUND MY BEST FRIEND IN THE DOG POUND From: Jim Dixon Date: 09 Aug 17 - 06:04 PM I FOUND MY BEST FRIEND IN THE DOG POUND As recorded by Jesse Lee Jones on the various-artists collection "Doggone Country: Favorite Songs about Dogs" (2008) I found my best friend in the dog pound, The best friend that I ever had. When other friends failed me, my pal with the tail, He still came to see me when I was in jail. I found my best friend in the dog pound. He's an old pris'ner like me, Who'll always be grateful, when the dog catcher caught him, That I set him free. I found my best friend in the dog pound. He's an old pris'ner like me, Who'll always be grateful, when a dog catcher caught him, That I set him free. For one measly dollar, A tag for his collar, I set him free. I set him free. Oh, I set him free. [Originally recorded by Burl Ives, apparently. Ives' arrangement is marred, in my opinion, by background singers singing words even sappier than these.] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OLD BEN (Chris Flegg) From: Jim Dixon Date: 08 Aug 17 - 10:17 PM OLD BEN As recorded by Chris Flegg on "The Sound of Life" 2008. Old Ben lies sleeping, quiet and still, No more to run the fields and hills. Of herding sheep, he's had his fill. He'll go no more a-working. Old Ben's a dog of many years, Now shabby coat and crumpled ears, With clouded eye and grizzled beard. He'll go no more a-working. He knows his master's call so well: "Come by, get back, stay down, to heel." A younger dog his job now steals. He'll go no more a-working. His basket by the augur lies. He stiffly turns around and sighs. Though he still barks at passers-by. He'll go no more a-working. Then sometimes he will rise alert When down the lane his master's heard. He tries to run but must return. He'll go no more a-working. And will I miss my working days, And sit and dream my time away, Or make life one long holiday? I'll go no more a-working. Old Ben lies sleeping, quiet and still, No more to run the fields and hills. Of herding sheep, he's had his fill. He'll go no more a-working. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: I LOVE MY DOG (Cat Stevens) From: Jim Dixon Date: 08 Aug 17 - 09:14 PM I LOVE MY DOG As recorded by Cat Stevens on "Matthew & Son" (1967) I love my dog as much as I love you You may fade, my dog will always come through. All he asks from me is the food to give him strength All he ever needs is love and that he knows he'll get So, I love my dog as much as I love you You may fade; my dog will always come through. All the pay I need comes shining through his eyes I don't need no cold water to make me realize that I love my dog as much as I love you You may fade; my dog will always come through. Na, na, na, na, na, na, nana... I love my dog as much as I love you You may fade; my dog will always come through. Na, na, na, na, na, na, nana... I love my dog; baby, I love my dog. Na, na, na... I love my dog; baby, I love my dog. Na, na, na... |
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Subject: Lyr Add: GEORGE'S SON (John Kirkpatrick) From: Jim Dixon Date: 08 Aug 17 - 01:55 PM GEORGE'S SON John Kirkpatrick As recorded by The John Kirkpatrick Band on "Force of Habit" (1996) Oh, there was George and there was George's Son. Two finer dogs, oh, they never did run, And they worked the sheep, and they worked 'em well, Oh, but George's Son, he could run like hell. Oh, one dark night when all were safe asleep, To George's Son, oh, some devil did creep, Sayin', "Show your master, show him true, What young George's Son with them sheep can do." Oh, how they scrambled and how they flew, And how they thundered that parish through. How high the cliff he drove them along, Oh, and in his ears rang that devil's song. Their clattering bells roused this shepherd bold, And at that sound, oh, his blood ran cold, And he prayed for mercy with all his might, Saying, "Some demon rides with my sheep this night." And quickly, quickly he ran the ground, And quickly, quickly that cliff he found, And quickly, quickly he raised his gun, And the devil smiled on young George's Son. A flock was lost, and a fortune too, And a brisk young farmer cold ruin knew. To some labouring job he was forced to come, Oh, but his saddest loss was young George's Son. But there was George and there was George's Son. Two finer dogs, oh they never did run, And they worked the sheep, and they worked 'em well, Oh, but George's Son, he could run like hell. [Notes copied from MainlyNorfolk.info:] John Kirkpatrick sang his own song on Brass Monkey's 1986 album See How It Runs. According to the album sleeve notes, he wrote it "for a dramatisation by the Orchard Theatre company of Thomas Hardy's Far from the Madding Crowd but not used in the end. This song is a synopsis of chapter five." The LP was re-released in 1993 as second half of the CD The Complete Brass Monkey. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OLD KING (Neil Young) From: Jim Dixon Date: 08 Aug 17 - 01:17 PM OLD KING As recorded by Neil Young on "Harvest Moon" (1992) [Chorus] King went a-runnin' after deer, Wasn't scared of jumping off the truck in high gear. King went a-sniffing and he would go, Was the best old hound dog I ever did know. I had a dog and his name was King. I told the dog about everything, There in my truck the dog and I. Then one day the King up and died. Then I thought about the times we had: Once when I kicked him when he was bad. Old King sure meant a lot to me, But that hound dog is history. [Chorus] That old King was a friend of mine. Never knew a dog that was half as fine. I may find one; you never do know, 'Cause I still got a long way to go. I had a dog and his name was King. I told the dog about everything. Old King sure meant a lot to me, But that hound dog is history. [Chorus] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OLD TIGE (Jim Reeves) From: Jim Dixon Date: 08 Aug 17 - 08:30 AM OLD TIGE As recorded by Jim Reeves, 1966. [Sung by female backup singers:] Tige, you were faithful, faithful to the end. Tige, how I miss you; you were my best friend. [Recited by Reeves:] Three years of army service done and I was headin' home at last. I got to thinkin' 'bout my dog and things long gone and past, How old Tige pulled me from the creek when I'd no pulse or breath, And how he had saved me from the chargin' bull that gored my dad to death. As a kid I'd dream of bears and tremble to my toes Till old Tige would come up to my bed and nudge me with his nose, And then my fears would melt away and Tige would go lie down, And I'd drift on back to sleep without another sound. The big bus stopped and I got off; it was awful dark and thick with fog; Then something gently nuzzled me and there stood Tige my dog. I wondered if my faithful dog had met the bus each day, And all the dreary winter nights since I'd been away. To have Tige meet me here like this, I was really glad, 'Cause I hadn't needed Tige so much since the day they buried Dad. Two long miles still lay ahead, but what I didn't know, A giant dam was being built where the old road used to go. I thank the Lord for sendin' Tige and I followed where he led, Knowing well without his help that I'd be good as dead. Tige inched along this way and that, goin' rough and slow, And I could hear the water lapping at the ledges far below; Then through the mist I saw a light and Mother in her chair, And I reached down to pat old Tige—but he wasn't there. "I'm thankful, Mom, you had old Tige these three lonely years. I owe my life to him tonight;" I couldn't help my tears. "You say you wrote me 'bout the dam, well, God was sure with us. I didn't get your letter, Mom, but old Tige met the bus." "I hate to tell you, son," she said, "but now you've got to know. When you left it broke his heart; Tige died three years ago." [Note: "Tige" is pronounced with a hard "g"--short for "Tiger" I suppose.] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE BALLAD OF THE DROVER (Henry Lawson) From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 06:58 PM Following is the complete poem that I found in In the Days when the World was Wide: And Other Verses by Henry Lawson (Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1896), page 99. I have italicized the lines that Martyn Wyndham-Read sings on his album "Emu Plains" (2001). MW-R made some changes in wording which I have not recorded here. THE BALLAD OF THE DROVER Words by Henry Lawson Across the stony ridges, Across the rolling plain, Young Harry Dale, the drover, Comes riding home again. And well his stock-horse bears him, And light of heart is he, And stoutly his old pack-horse Is trotting by his knee. Up Queensland way with cattle He travelled regions vast; And many months have vanished Since home-folk saw him last. He hums a song of someone He hopes to marry soon; And hobble-chains and camp-ware Keep jingling to the tune. Beyond the hazy dado Against the lower skies, And yon blue line of ranges, The homestead station lies. And thitherward the drover Jogs through the lazy noon, While hobble-chains and camp-ware Are jingling to a tune. An hour has filled the heavens With storm-clouds inky black; At times the lightning trickles Around the drover's track But Harry pushes onward; His horses' strength he tries, In hope to reach the river Before the flood shall rise. The thunder from above him Goes rolling o'er the plain; And down on thirsty pastures In torrents falls the rain. And every creek and gully Sends forth its little flood, Till the river runs a banker, All stained with yellow mud. Now Harry speaks to Rover, The best dog on the plains, And to his hardy horses, And strokes their shaggy manes; 'We've breasted bigger rivers "When floods were at their height, "Nor shall this gutter stop us "From getting home to-night!" The thunder growls a warning, The ghastly lightnings gleam, As the drover turns his horses, To swim the fatal stream. But, oh! the flood runs stronger Than e'er it ran before; The saddle-horse is failing, And only half-way o'er! When flashes next the lightning, The flood's grey breast is blank, And a cattle dog and pack-horse Are struggling up the bank. But on the bank to northward, Or on the southern shore, The stock-horse and his rider Will struggle out no more. The faithful dog a moment Sits panting on the bank, And then swims through the current To where his master sank. And round and round in circles, He fights with failing strength, Till, borne down by the waters, The old dog sinks at length. Across the flooded lowlands And slopes of sodden loam The pack-horse struggles onward, To take dumb tidings home. And mud-stained, wet, and weary, Through ranges dark goes he, The hobble-chains and tinware, Are sounding eerily. The floods are in the ocean, The stream is clear again, And now a verdant carpet Is stretched across the plain. But someone's eyes are saddened, And someone's heart still bleeds In sorrow for the drover Who sleeps among the reeds. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: SINATRA AND I (James Keelaghan) From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 05:46 PM SINATRA AND I (James Keelaghan) As recorded by James Keelaghan on "Home" (2001) I have to admit there's a strange tale between us, A twisted road windin' between you and I. I was livin' in a garret on the edges of Staten. I was lyin' in bed lookin' out at the night. The gray sky exploded; fire rained down. Some refinery in Jersey burned to the ground. Call me superstitious; I called it a sign. I packed up the van, headed out for the line. I wandered for months; it was gorgeous but somehow I didn't know what I was tryin' to find. The last days of summer found me crossing the border. I was feelin' quite lonely, right out of my mind. I stopped in Regina; my spirits were low. If I didn't do somethin' I was bound to explode. If I was gonna keep trav'lin', I needed a date. I rolled the van to a stop at the S.P.C.A. There he sat curled up back in the corner, Face like a bandit, and icy blue eyes. They opened the gate; he casually strolled Out of the kennel, into my life. So it was that Sinatra and I went a-rovin'. Yeah, that's what I called him because of his eyes. Turns out as well he's a pretty good singer, Though he tends more to blues than to Strangers at Night.* Old Blue Eyes beside me, we kept headin' north. Near Whitehorse the van fin'lly gave up the ghost. Got a job at a cafe where Sinatra begged scraps, Savin' our money for spark plugs and maps. Oh.... Some nights we'd both get cabin fever. We'd go for a walk, old Sinatra and I, His nose on the ground sniffing out possibilities, Me lookin' out to the dome of the sky. I'd ask him to sit but he'd pay me no mind. He'll do it his way and I'll do it mine. That's why I like him; what's more, that's why I think there's a future for Sinatra and I. [* I assume this refers to Sinatra's hit STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT."] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OLD DOGS (Bill Staines) From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 11:34 AM OLD DOGS As recorded by Bill Staines on "Old Dogs" (2007) Old dogs lie beside the door. They toss and turn and scratch and snore. They fight again their puppy wars Of playful battles raging. Old dogs lie alone at night. They tuck their tails; they curl up tight. They howl when moons are full and bright And recall when they were lovers. Old dogs have a song to sing. Old dogs like 'most ev'rything. They care not what the weather brings Except when it is thunder. Old dogs look you in the eye. They hold your heart; they never lie. They bark at planes up in the sky And wish that they were fliers. Old dogs dream about the past When they frolicked fields of golden grass And chased the icy winter's blast To lie by home fires burning. Old dogs wander off alone. Old dogs know the way back home, The slightest scent, the very bone Of hunter home returning. Old dogs come and old dogs go. Old dogs always seem to know That love is life's most precious flow And love is worth the waiting. When their time on earth is through, Old dogs are forever true, And round the bend they wait for you Come some tomorrow morning. When their time on earth is through, Old dogs are forever true, And round the bend they wait for you, Come some tomorrow morning. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: open mike Date: 07 Aug 17 - 11:14 AM perfect for the dog days of august! |
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Subject: Lyr Add: BRANNIGAN'S PUP From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 10:12 AM Harvard University library has a broadside, not viewable online, but cataloged thus: BRANNIGAN'S PUP sung by John O'Neil and John Conroy with great success no songwriter identified New York: H.R. Prowell's Book Exhange, 1886. First line: Now old Mickey Brannigan had a bull pup I found these lyrics in Irish Song Book, No. 1 (New York: Wehman Bros., 1909), page 116: BRANNIGAN'S PUP Now old Mickey Brannigan had a bull-pup. He was bred of rale elegant stock. For seventeen hours a battle he fought; He did, by my soul, by the clock. His tail was a neat little bit of a stump, Bow-legged and two crooked eyes. One look at his ugly-looking mug was enough. He was the divil himself in disguise. CHORUS: Bow-ow-ow, what a pup to be sure. For fighting he'd never give up. There never was known such a wonderful dog As Mickey Brannigan's pup. He tore the tail off Maloney's best coat, Ate the bustle of Mary Ann Flynn, And run between young Kitty Mulligan's legs. Now wasn't that truly a sin? He caught up the Dutch shoemaker's dog, And shook him around like a rat. He murdered Tim Finnegan's beautiful goat, Ate the tail of McManus' cat. An Italian came around with an organ one day, And a monkey tied fast to a string; And when the pup saw them, he howled with delight, And made a most wonderful spring. He upset the monkey, grinder and all, And bursted the organ inside; And, be jabers, he tried to swallow the monk, But he choked on his tail and he died. There was an album: "Ted Ashlaw—Adirondack Woods Singer," consisting of field recordings, issued by Philo #1022, 1976, which contained a song called MICKEY BRANNIGAN'S PUP. There was a 78-rpm record, NEVER TAKE THE HORSESHOE FROM THE DOOR b/w BRANNIGAN'S PUP, Decca 25049, made by Pat Harrington with orchestra, which was part of an album called "Irish Come-All-Ye's," 1949. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OL' RED (Blake Shelton) From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 08:35 AM OL' RED As recorded by Blake Shelton on "Blake Shelton" (2001) Well, I caught my wife with another man and it cost me a ninety-nine On a prison farm in Georgia, close to the Florida line. Well, I've been here for two long years; I fin'lly made the warden my friend, And so he sentenced me to a life of ease, takin' care of ol' Red. Now ol' Red he's the damnedest dog that I've ever seen. Got a nose that can smell a two-day trail; he's a four-legged trackin' machine. You can consider yourself mighty lucky to get past the gators and the quicksand beds, But all these years that I been here, ain't nobody got past Red. CHORUS: And the warden sang: "Come on, somebody; why don't you run? Ol' Red's itchin' to have a little fun. Get my lantern; get my gun. Red'll have you treed 'fore the mornin' comes." Well, I paid off the guard and I slipped out a letter to my cousin up in Tennessee. He brought down a blue-tick hound; she was pretty as she could be. Well, they penned her up in the swampland 'bout a mile just south o' the gate. I'd take old Red for his evenin' run; I'd just drop him off an' wait. CHORUS Now ol' Red got real used to seein' his lady ever' night, So I kept him away for three or four days and waited till the time got right. Well, I made my run with the evenin' sun and I smiled when I heard 'em turn Red out, 'Cause I was headed north to Tennessee and ol' Red was headed south. CHORUS Now there's red-haired blue ticks all in the South. Love got me in here and love got me out. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: MATTIE'S WANTS AND WISHES (child's poem) From: Jim Dixon Date: 07 Aug 17 - 12:10 AM This is the other poem kytrad (Jean Ritchie) quoted from. Although it has nothing to do with dogs, she apparently thought they were all one poem. From The Humbler Poets: A Collection of Newspaper and Periodical Verse, 1870 to 1885 by Slason Thompson (Chicago: Jansen, McClurg, and Co., 1886), page 51: MATTIE'S WANTS AND WISHES. I wants a piece of talito To make my doll a dress; I doesn't want a big piece— A yard'll do, I guess. I wish you'd fred my needle, And find my fimble, too— I has such heaps o' sowin', I don't know what to do. My Hepsy tored her apron A tum'lin' down the stair; And Caesar 's lost his pantaloons, And needs anozzer pair. I wants my Maud a bonnet, She hasn't none at all; And Fred must have a jacket, His uzzer one's too small. I wants to go to grandma's, You promised me I might; I know she'll like to see me— I wants to go to-night. She lets me wash the dishes, And see in grandpa's watch— Wish I'd free, four pennies, To buy some butter-scotch. I wants some newer mittens, I wish you'd knit me some, 'Cause 'most my fingers freezes, They leak so in the fum. I wored it out last summer A-pullin' George's sled; I wish you wouldn't laugh so— It hurts my in my head. I wish I had a cooky— I'm hungry's I can be; If you hasn't pretty large ones, You'd better bring me free. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: MY LITTLE DOGGY.(children's poem, 1887) From: Jim Dixon Date: 06 Aug 17 - 11:35 PM This is the poem that kytrad (Jean Ritchie) quoted from back on 26 Feb 07 - 06:15 PM. However, her 3rd verse is actually from a different poem (see below). From Favourite Rhymes for the Nursery [no author or editor identified] (London: T. Nelson and Sons, 1887), page 65: MY LITTLE DOGGY. I had a little Doggy That used to sit and beg. Doggy tumbled down the stairs And broke his little leg. Oh! Doggy, I will nurse you, And try to make you well; And you shall have a collar With a pretty little bell. Ah! Doggy, don't you think you Should very faithful be, For having such a loving friend To comfort you as me. And when your leg is better, And you can run and play, We'll have a scamper in the fields, And see them making hay. But, Doggy, you must promise (And mind your word you keep) Not once to tease the little lambs, Or run among the sheep. And then the yellow "chicks," That play upon the grass, You must not even wag your tail To scare them as you pass. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: Snuffy Date: 06 Aug 17 - 01:40 PM We used to sing different responses to I HAVE A DOG HIS NAME IS ROVER (Jim Dixon 05 Aug 17 - 08:15 AM) I have a dog; his name is Rover. Tra-la-la,tra-la-la . I have a dog; his name is Rover. Whoah! Shit! I have a dog; his name is Rover. When he shits, he shits all over. Shit all round the room, tra-la, shit all round the room. A couple of additional verses: I have a dog; her name is Tanya. When she shits, she shits lasagne I have a Rottweiler-Dobermann cross Shits where he likes, 'cos he's the boss. |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: JedMarum Date: 06 Aug 17 - 10:03 AM My wife asked me to find a way to put our Whippets in a song, so Lacey and Jackson helped me tell this story, Ain't No Goin' Back [Lyrics] Whippets are sight hounds, they look quite a bit like greyhounds, but just a little smaller. They are sweet and lovable, but they know they were born to kill furry little creatures! |
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Subject: Lyr Add: DOES YOUR DOG AGONIZE? (L & P Berryman) From: Jim Dixon Date: 06 Aug 17 - 09:15 AM DOES YOUR DOG AGONIZE? As recorded by Lou & Peter Berryman on "The Universe: 14 Examples" (2007) Does your dog agonize? And do you empathize? Do his dreams wallow in The dog he could 'a' been? And if you ask him: "Hey, Have you been good today?" Does he avert his eyes? Does your dog agonize? Does he ask of your cat: "Why can't I be like that? So full of confidence, A pet of consequence." And does that reinforce His core of deep remorse? Though he's fine otherwise, Does your dog agonize? Did your dog write the book About the hang-dog look? Does his tail droop and drag Then give one feeble wag? Does he eye doggie girls And whine when spotting squirrels, But then apologize? Does your dog agonize? Does he think maybe you Should find him things to do, Like maybe blow your wad On the Iditarod? Then feel ashamed that he Can't independently Learn to self-actualize? Does your dog agonize? BRIDGE: Some say that maybe we Anthropomorphically Project our own regrets On unsuspecting pets. I s'pose it may be true It's really me who's blue. I don't tell my dog, though. It makes him worry so. Does your dog agonize? And do you empathize? Do his dreams wallow in The dog he could 'a' been? And if you ask him: "Hey, Have you been good today?" Does he avert his eyes? Does your dog agonize? |
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Subject: Lyr Add: BOB THE DOG (Con Ó Drisceoil) From: Jim Dixon Date: 06 Aug 17 - 07:08 AM BOB THE DOG As sung by Con Ó Drisceoil in a field recording found Góilín Song Project. 1. I'll sing of a dog they called Bob in this mournful rhyme. With a surgical blade he was spayed while still in his prime. He was properly vexed when his sexual ambitions were foiled. He was deprived of romance and his chances of passion are spoiled. 2. In his youth he had sport and he courted with vigor and joy. His fine apparatus had status that reached to the sky. The grandest young bitches were itching to have him for life, But they've all disappeared since his spheres were removed by the knife. 3. And he suffered no slurs from those curs who came looking for fight. One growl at those whelps and they'd yelp and directly take flight. But since losing his cluster he's flustered and shaking with fear. His courage gone limp, he's a wimp without conjugal gear. 4. His technique was so suave with palaver and personal charm. His foreplay insured, they were lured to fall into his arms. But since losing his tackle, he's rattled, upset and dismayed. With no tunes in his flute the poor brute can no longer get laid. 5. And a man came the way yesterday with his bitch for a poke. He had heard that our hound was renowned for the strength of his yoke. I said: "Sorry, you're late and your fate with misfortune is crowned. Since our Bobby got neutered, his shooter can't fire any round." 6. Of the day he was gelded I'll tell, though your nerves will be shot. He was lying on a slab when a jab of the needle he got. There was vets in attendance resplendent in surgical robes, Then with one rapid snip out they whipped his connubial globes. 7. And how can a mutt without nut look(?) to future that's great? Without utensils nuptial, no pups shall he e'er procreate. Since losing his fittings he's quitting romantic affairs, For the skill to seduce is no use when there's nothing downstairs. 8. So the days when this codger would roger all round him have ceased. He won't couple again with the shin of our old parish priest. He's trying medical notions and potions that seep through his pores. His appliance to refuel for his duels he expects to restore. [You can hear Janet Lynch sing this song on YouTube, but she skips verses 3 and 7.] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: MOVE OVER ROVER (Wynonie Harris) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 07:56 PM I found this song at YouTube but I'm not sure it's complete. MOVE OVER ROVER As recorded by Wynonie Harris Man's best friend sure must 'a' been a dog. Some o' these women I know ain't got no love at all. CHORUS: Move over, Rover, and let me in. Looks like I'm gonna be livin' in your doghouse again. Get over, Rover; let me in; you're my best friend. Early tonight a man was beatin' his wife. I tried to help her out and she drew her pocket knife. I went out with the boys to get a little taste, And now that I'm back home, she wants to slap me in the face. I needed a vacation; I took a little trip. I got back home this mornin' an' my woman done packed my grip. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: MOVE OVER ROVER (Al Dexter) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 04:44 PM Similar theme to Hank Williams' MOVE IT ON OVER, from 1947. MOVE OVER ROVER As recorded by Al Dexter, 1953. 1. Married men will all agree: a dog is man's best friend. He'll stick to you through thick and thin; they're faithful to the end. I have a dog named Rover, who adds up just that way, And when I really need a friend, I go to him and say: CHORUS: Oh, move over, Rover, and make room for a friend. Move over, Rover, and let your old pal in. I'm gettin' tired and sleepy; on you I can depend, So move over, Rover, and let your old pal in. 2. I went out the other night to get myself a beer, And there I met the cutest one and closer I drew near. About that time my wife walked in and ante'd up the score, So now I'm out at Rover's house a-knockin' at the door. 3. I've been locked out many times; it seems like many more. I've been thrown into the jugs until I lost the score, So when she's on the warpath, I love old Rover so, 'Cause she will call the doggone cops and back in jail I go. 4. I have done some slippin' 'round but I won't slip no more, For she caught me out with a blonde and got her forty-four. Now when she pulls that rusty gat and draws her bead on me, I go hunt for Rover's house and help him share his fleas. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: GOD DOG (Incredible String Band) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 04:01 PM GOD DOG As recorded by the Incredible String Band, on "The Chelsea Sessions, 1967" (1997) This dog is no puppy dog; she's strange as the trees. She is brown as the mountain and white as the breeze. She walks on the water without any boots. Her eyes are as fine as the music of flutes; But she will not sweep chimneys nor will she pluck corn, But she is the best little dog that ever was born. I've lain in the womb of the rocks cold and chill While she speaks in my heart with the voice of the hill; And when I am risen and ready to run, She will laugh without laughter to welcome the sun; But she will not learn language nor will she bear scorn, But she is the best little dog that ever was born. The water god offered me the ring of his rings To buy the dog from me to teach the poor kings. The ring's on my finger; the dog runs behind, Since watery palaces would ne'er suit her mind; But as yet she can't fly well, nor play on the horn, Still she is the best little dog that ever was born. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: WALKING THE DOG (Rufus Thomas) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 03:32 PM The Rolling Stones covered this in 1964. WALKING THE DOG As recorded by Rufus Thomas, 1963. Mary Mack, dressed in black Silver buttons all down her back How low, tipsy toe She broke the needle and she can't sew CHORUS: Walkin' the dog, just a-walkin' the dog, If you don't know how to do it, I'll show you how to walk the dog. Asked my mama for fifteen cents To see the elephant jump the fence He jumped so high he touched the sky Never got back till the fourth of July Mary, Mary, quite contrary Tell me, how does your garden grow? You got silver bells and you got cockle shells And pretty maids all in a row |
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Subject: Lyr Add: DIXIE'S DOG (Bernard Wrigley) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 12:01 PM I found this at monologues.co.uk. There were no stanza breaks, so I inserted some. I have no idea if this was originally written as a song or a recitation, but it seems some people have sung it. DIXIE'S DOG Written by Bernard Wrigley One day not very long ago in a patch of pea soup fog, I put my scarf and coat on for a walk outside wi' t'dog. The air was thick; you couldn't see a yard or two down t'street When something stopped in front of me—a pair of policeman's feet. There grew from them some trousers—they were dyed in navy blue— A helmet, a coat and a pair of hands, with a notebook in 'em too. I pretends I hasn't seen him, like, there being so much fog. Then a thund'rous voice booms out, "Now where's your licence for your dog?" Well, times were bad and jobs were scarce; I'd had to go on t'dole, And all the money I'd scraped together I'd spent on food and coal. He knew I had no licence; he was kicking up a fuss. He says, "Bring it in tomorrow or you'll be having your tea with us." So all next day I sat at home and looked at t'chimbley flue, Wond'ring if he'd come around and thinking what to do. Then I heard a noise at t'top o't'road, it sounded like flat feet, And I knew it was that copper as he trundled down the street. So I hid myself behind the door as he began to knock. He'd no idea I were so near I could even smell his socks. When he got tired he went away and I brewed me a cup of tea, And I thought whatever happened, t'last laugh'd be on me. So next day two burly rozzers come a-swaggering in the place But I had my licence ready, and a grin all o'er my face. He says, "Ey up! You were stony broke when I met you in the fog. How can you afford a licence?" I says, "I've sold my bloody dog." |
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Subject: Lyr Add: QUEEN OF THE RAILS (Utah Phillips) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 11:03 AM QUEEN OF THE RAILS As recorded by Utah Phillips on "Good Though!" (1973) 1. I guess his name was Boomer Bill. If that won't do, another will. A hobo doesn't need a name 'cause he never gets no mail; And the only friend old Boomer had To ride with him through good and bad Was a shaggy little mongrel he called Queen of the Rails. 2. The black-smoke choo-choo's gone away. Bummin' it's just not the same. Dreams are few and far between but mem'ries seldom fail. Waiting down there by the track For her master to come back, You can count on seein' that old dog called Queen of the Rails. 3. Old boomer bummed the Ryo Grande, The Santa Fee, and never planned On where he'd be from day to day, the jungle or the jail; But when the snow was fallin' down, He'd catch a California-bound With that little dog to keep him warm, old Queen of the Rails. 4. [Repeat #2] 5. One day he went to get a bone, Left his little pal alone. He crossed the coupling joints of the train that blocked the yard. They switched a reefer off the main And humped it into Boomer's train. He fell and died beneath the iron wheel so cold and hard. 6. The black-smoke choo-choo's gone away. Bummin' it's just not the same. Dreams are few and far between but mem'ries seldom fail. If there's a place for some old friend Who waits until the journey's end, The Boomer he'll be glad to see old Queen of the Rails. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: I HAVE A DOG HIS NAME IS ROVER (I Biggun) From: Jim Dixon Date: 05 Aug 17 - 08:15 AM This song is performed in call-and-response style, like a sea chantey: I HAVE A DOG HIS NAME IS ROVER As recorded by Ivor Biggun on "The Fruity Bits of Ivor Biggun" (2000). I have a dog; his name is Rover. Oh, my goodness! I have a dog; his name is Rover. Ee, by gum! I have a dog; his name is Rover. When he shits, he shits all over. Shit all round the room, me boys, shit all round the room. [Similarly, with the same responses:] I have a dog; his name is Fritz. He shits and shits and shits and shits. I have a dog, a big Great Dane. He wipes his bum and he pulls the chain. [The album "Handling Swollen Goods" (2005) contains these additional verses:] I have a dog; he's as big as that. He got diarrhea and he buried the cat. I have a dog with a triangular rectum. Toblerones shoot out when you least expect 'em. I have a fucking great big Rottweiler; his name is Jim, And where he shits is entirely up to him. I have a little Chihuahua; his name is Cliff. His turds are small but they don't half niff. I have a dog; his name is Solzhenitsyn. And mine is the house Solzhenitsyn shits in. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: GONNA BUY ME A DOG (The Monkees) From: Jim Dixon Date: 04 Aug 17 - 07:20 AM GONNA BUY ME A DOG As recorded by the Monkees on "The Monkees" (1966) You know my girl just called me up, And she woke me from my sleep. You should 'a' heard the things she said. You know she hurt my feelings deep. CHORUS: I'm gonna buy me a dog, 'Cause I need a friend now. I'm gonna buy me a dog. My girl, my girl, don't love me nohow. She used to bring me my newspaper, 'Cause she knew where it was at. She used to keep me so contented, But I can teach a dog to do that. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: I WANNA BE A DOG (Barry Louis Polisar) From: Jim Dixon Date: 04 Aug 17 - 01:42 AM I WANNA BE A DOG As recorded by Barry Louis Polisar on "Old Dogs, New Tricks" (1993)* Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna wag my tail, Chase cars and knock over garbage cans, Bite the man who brings the mail. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna lie on the floor, And chase squirrels and cats, get fed, get fat, Chew your shoe and bark at the door. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna dig big holes, Flirt with french poodles and basset hounds, And pee on telephone poles. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna drool on the ground, Scratch fleas and ticks and run after sticks. I just wanna be a hound. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna roll in the dirt. I wanna run in the street and get mud on my feet, And jump up onto your shirt. Oh, I wanna have dog breath, Wake the neighbors, too. Well, I'll lick your hand, be the best friend to man. Don't have nothin' better to do. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Want my nose to be wet. I got a college degree, but all I wanna be Is somebody else's pet. Oh, I wanna be a dog. Wanna wag my tail. Chase cars and knock over garbage cans, And bite whoever tries to bring us the mail. [* An earlier version of this song appeared on Polisar's "Songs for Well Behaved Children" (1979).] |
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Subject: Lyr Add: WHEN DOGS DREAM (Lon Jones) From: Jim Dixon Date: 03 Aug 17 - 09:54 PM WHEN DOGS DREAM As recorded by Lon Jones on "When the Moon Comes Down for Tea" (2010) Dogs spend the nighttime and most of the daytime Not awake, not asleep, but right in between. Sometimes they slip and fall off to dreamland. Wiggling whiskers, they twitch and they growl, When dogs dream, When dogs dream. Many have wondered just what dogs dream about. I asked several dogs. It's something like this: Squirrel teases dog up in a tree. Dog climbs up tree. Dog eats squirrel, When dogs dream, When dogs dream. When dogs dream, they dream about the things you do, Like petting them or tossing them a bone. They're on the hunt or fighting fearsome battles. They wake up surprised to be back home. Chasing off bad guys into the night, Master throws a Frisbee made of steak. Fifi the poodle, miniature and dainty, Doberman tries to sniff her; she kicks that dog's butt. When dogs dream, When dogs dream. When dogs dream, I can't help but wondering About the scientific borderline That runs between the animals and people. When dogs dream, there ain't no borderline, When dogs dream, When dogs dream, When dogs dream, When dogs dream. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: DON'T CRY BLUE (Jonathan Edwards) From: Jim Dixon Date: 03 Aug 17 - 06:55 PM DON'T CRY BLUE As recorded by Jonathan Edwards on "Jonathan Edwards" (1971). I heard them engines runnin' on the road away from home, Sound like thunder callin' out my name. Well, I listened hard the first time that I heard 'em roll along. I listened and I never been the same. CHORUS: Well, don't cry, cry, Blue, 'Cause I'm comin' home to you. Well, I walked with you this mornin' and I'll sleep with you tonight. Don't cry, cry, Blue. Highway's just a two-lane road connectin' either way. Oh, I've seen enough of this end for a while, But I've got to go the distance till I know I've seen a change; Got to know the feel of ev'ry mile. When my head is achin', full of ev'rywhere I've been, Oh, I've turned my face around the other way, And I'll meet you at the mailbox, read you all my cards, Tell you what I really meant to say. |
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Subject: Lyr Add: OLD CUR (The Limeliters) From: Jim Dixon Date: 03 Aug 17 - 06:31 PM OLD CUR As recorded by The Limeliters on "Look at Love...in Depth" (1965) I've got a spot in my heart for my faithful hound, Old Cur (Old Cur). Many's the hours we've spent together in easy camaraderie. I never felt the need to talk; you never barked at me, Old Cur (Old Cur). I've got a place in my heart for that loyal beast, Old Cur (Old Cur). You've got no best-of-breed blue ribbon; dog fanciers say you're a fool, Because you are a dropout from their old obedience school, Old Cur (Old Cur). They say you're a mutt but your sire was a giant Nottingham prim(?); your dam was a toy passive(?) blue,[*] And though you're kind of a mixed-up beast, you've got good blood in you. Ah, you're no kind o' watchdog, Old Cur. You're no trick dog, bird dog, seek(?) or sled dog. You're just a plain old sleep-at-the-foot-of-the-bed dog. You can't fetch, sit, heel, speak, roll over, flush, or mush, And the only command y'understand is "stay." You been here seven years a week ago today. You know you ain't s'posed to be on the bed, old buddy. Sometimes when I contemplate the state of things, cursin' fate, It's then you lick my hand, and how well I appreciate It doesn't take a bell to make you salivate. Fetch me a tissue, Old Cur. There's a room in my heart for my faithful friend, Old Cur (Old Cur). You bring a creature comfort to computerized society. You are the only living thing who has a need for me, Old Cur (Old Cur). [* I have searched lists of dog breeds, and I have found nothing similar to these; I think they're made up.] |
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Subject: RE: Songs About Dogs From: Keith A of Hertford Date: 24 Jun 17 - 05:31 AM McGrath did not mention that the famous dog was named for his father. |
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