The Dog

Open my eyes on a bloodshot morning The champion strains his leash He's howling in pain, but he's howling in vain The lights on Love Street are red Tension mounts in my flesh The rigidity of perplexed anguish Turgid in my purple soldier's head Veins popping, striated muscle pink and warm I whip him, three times a day Offer him a hand out of spite I'll be frank: I spank and I spank This thing's bigger than the both of us