Morning Zombies
At the witching hour,
Early morning,
The zombies are walking the streets.
With only one eye open,
The slumber just broken
The cyclops admits his defeat.
The sidewalks deserted,
Their life is inverted
By four legs that are attached to a leash.
Holy cow it’s a weekend
But they are ruled by the best friend
Who’s poop he thinks smells like a quiche.
————-
A dog lives like a king
While you work
He does his own thing
Basically eating and getting his sleep.
When you get home he thrives
Takes you captive, alive
And if you ignore him
You feel like a creep.
—————————-
Sometimes it pours
While you both are outdoors,
Still he won’t do it
‘Till he finds the right spot.
You both get drenched to the bone
But for sure you can’t take him home
Till your best friend has taken a squat.
And the good wife looks on
Which is really a con
As she never,
No never ever,
Takes him out.
But after all the gone by years
It’s true you love him to tears
Because that’s what having a dog’s
All about
