mr bones vs. now i wanna be your dog

No one was going to want to rescue me, that much I understood. If I had belonged to some recognizable breed, if I were a Labrador or a cute little Chihuahua, an Irish Setter or a Border Collie, something like that, I might have even gotten a chance in theater or on film. Willy told me bout dogs that became real celebrities that way. Inspector Rex, Rin Tin Tin, Floki… But I was a hodgepodge of genetic strains – part collie, part Labrador, part spaniel, part canine puzzle, I mean, you can see for yourself. Willy called me a real postmodern dog, I guess that meant I was ahead of my time. And to make matters worse, there were burrs protruding from my ragged coat, bad smells emanating from my mouth, and a perpetual bloodshot sadness lurking in my eyes. I knew that if, in the nearest future I don’t manage to find a new master, I’ll be a dog doomed to oblivion.

So messed up I want you here
In my room I want you here
Now were gonna be face-to-face
And Ill lay right down in my favorite place

And now I wanna be your dog
Now I wanna be your dog
Now I wanna be your dog
Well cmon

Now Im ready to close my eyes
And now Im ready to close my mind
And now Im ready to feel your hand
And lose my heart on the burning sands

And now I wanna be your dog
And now I wenna be your dog
Now I wanna be your dog
Well cmon

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