Dark Dog Days

“DARK DOG DAYS”

Babe, before you press that knife
To your sweet, misguided face
I hope time answers all the ways and the times and the places in your mind

You litter the vines of our dysfunctional tree
With liberties taken from reality
You're fit for the sanitarium
With the fits seeping from your cranium

I used to find joy in the mind
Oh, the kindness of your gaze
But late at night I'd often find you
In a homicidal rage

Days of love are gone now
Leave me in the Dark Dog Days
It's hot, I can't be bothered
With your hysteria

Dark Dog Days
I never thought I'd have to watch my back, yeah
In Dark Dog Days
Fear of being in a sack, throw me to the ocean
Fear of being in a sack, throw me to the ocean
Fear of being in a sack, throw me to the ocean
Fear of being in a sack, throw me to the ocean

Copyright 2006 Beau Phillips