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From: ascot@agora.rdrop.com (Alan Scott)
Subject: Lyric Sheet:  Suicidal Dawg
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Date: Fri, 14 Jul 1995 06:22:30 GMT
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SUICIDAL DAWG

Inspired by two separate dogs.  One in Morgantown WV, across from Jim
Oxley's house, in whose basement I lived for a while.  One in Huntington,
across from LeNora Adkins' green-painted duplex apartment on 13th Street. 
Both big, aging dogs with yellowed fur and forlorn bags under their eyes. 
They reclined on the front porch roofs of their respective houses, staring
at the street with intense concentration for hours at a time.  Words and
music by Alan P. Scott

Chord note:  I don't know what this one is called, but E' (E7sus?) is in 
guitar tablature:

E A D G B E
 | | | | | 
 |2| |3| | 
 | | | | | 


E                E'          E                E'
The thin old man sits on his front porch again.
E                         E'                 E      E'
Everybody's watching him, while he watches them.
       E                         E'                      E       E'
In the upstairs room the mongrel mutt stares down at the street.
      E                     E'
He's lookin' for some action.
      E                         E'
He's lookin for a bitch in heat.
      E                    E'
He's thinkin' about jumpin'
       E                     E
But he ain't gonna jump just yet.

        G A      E
K:	Suicidal Dawg
        G             A        E
	Hangin' on to livin by tooth and claw
             G         A
	He's tried and tried
            C  D
	For suicide
                E                    E'                     E      E'
	But you can't slit yer wrists... with yer own front paws.

The thin old man feeds him Alpo again.
Pours out some water into a cracked glass bowl.
In the upstairs room the poor lost pup takes in some TV.
He's switchin' different channels
He's lookin for that bitch in heat
He's thinkin' about jumpin'
But he ain't gonna jump just yet.

K.

The thin old man's gettin' thinner and thinner.
And don't you know, in the end, ain't nobody the winner.
In the upstairs room the long lost pooch laps up some more hooch.
He's lookin for some action
He's sniffin' out that bitch in heat.
He's lookin out that window
But he ain't gonna jump just yet.

Suicidal Dawg
Gettin' damn tired of livin' by his tooth and his claws.
He's tried and tried
For suicide
But you can't slit yer wrists
With your own front paws.

--
Alan P. Scott (ascot@agora.rdrop.com)
     "The soul of sweet delight can never be defil'd."
                              --William Blake, "Proverbs of Hell"