When Bloodhounds Fly
My Bloodhound is a dreamer and he thinks that he can fly,
And his ears are plenty big enough to give it an honest try.
When we are out walking and we turn into a headwind breeze,
He sniffs the air and looks into the sky well above the trees.
Then he will fall back a bit to give the leash some extra slack,
When he lunges into the air it's altitude not attitude he'll lack.
A willing heart is what he has, he knows he's meant to sail,
With ears for wings his feet for gear and a rudder that's a tail.
And he might be disappointed when his four feet hit the ground,
But he will only show a smiling face when he turns around.
Because he sees himself in the clouds and one more thing I know,
He takes delight in watching me dangle from the leash below.
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