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.