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 the 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
about 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

And 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

And 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?