“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