| I’ve become a cold case, bruised and black
|
| Laying on a table with my eyes rolled back
|
| A husband for dear Doe, Jane
|
| I used to fit in your arms like a book in a shelf
|
| Now I sit on the floor telling jokes to myself
|
| Da da la da, da da la da da
|
| Da da la da, da da la da
|
| Wah, ah
|
| Wah, wah, wah (ah, ah, ah, ah, ah)
|
| Wah, ah
|
| I hope I don’t become a good boy, slow and strong
|
| Minding my manners and tagging along
|
| A pet for my dear Doe, Jane
|
| I used to nip at the heels and bay at the moon
|
| Now I sit and stay like the good dogs do
|
| Da da la da, da da la da da
|
| Da da la da, da da la da
|
| Wah, ah
|
| Wah, wah, wah (ah, ah, ah, ah, ah)
|
| Wah, ah
|
| I hope I don’t become a good boy, slow and strong
|
| Minding my manners and tagging along
|
| A pet for my dear Doe, Jane
|
| I used to nip at the heels and bay at the moon
|
| Now I sit and stay like the good dogs do
|
| So let’s strap on our jaws and head back to the homeland
|
| Where we sit and stare like it’s our god-chosen gift
|
| So let’s strap on our jaws and head back to the homeland
|
| Where we sit and stare like it’s our god-chosen gift
|
| I’ve become a cold case, bruised and black
|
| Laying on a table with my eyes rolled back
|
| A husband for dear Doe, Jane
|
| I used to fit in your arms like a book in a shelf
|
| Now I sit on the floor telling jokes to myself
|
| I used to bite at the heel and bay at the moon
|
| Now I sit and I stay like the good dogs do
|
| So strap on your jaws and head back to the homeland
|
| Where we sit and stare like it’s our god-chosen gift (So strap on your jaws and
|
| head back to the homeland)
|
| Where we sit and stare like it’s our god-chosen gift (So strap on your jaws and
|
| head back to the homeland)
|
| Where we sit and stare like it’s our god-chosen gift |