I'm a dog
And I can smell your smell right through your clothes
And I espouse
Some views that you yourself just might not hold
Sometimes, I am given pause to think when
I consider what we could call a good life

When it comes
To the city versus the country life
Well, I must say
That I far prefer a farmer's wife
Breakfast with the master in the morning
Feel the breeze and brush against a cow's leg - mmm!

But it seems
The thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young
Or pine away
How can they help but drag
The species down?

There's some debate
'Bout whether instincts should be held in check
Well, I suppose
That I'm a liberal in this respect
I can't say I liked Robinson Crusoe
But at least he didn't tie his dogs up at night
But it seems
The thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young
Or pine away
How can they help but drag
The species down?

How come all
Your poets fall into despondencies?
And then write it down
For us to read every indignity?
Not such worthy specimens, these creatures
Hardly fit for what you could call the good life

But it seems
The thinkers you call greatest are
The sort who often fall ill young
Or pine away
How can they help but drag
The species down?
How can they help but drag
The species down?