Dog Years

In a dog's life 
A year is really more like seven 
And all too soon a canine 
Will be chasing cars in doggie heaven 

It seems to me 
As we make our own few circles 'round the sun 
We get it backwards 
And our seven years go by like one 

Dog years...It's the season of the itch 
Dog years...With every scratch it reappears 

In the dog days 
People look to Sirius 
Dogs cry for the moon 
But these connections are mysterious 

It seems to me 
While it's true that every dog will have his day 
When all the bones are buried 
There is barely time to go outside and play 

Dog years...It's the season of the itch 
Dog years...With every scratch it reappears 
Dog years...For every sad son of a bitch 
Dog years...With his tail between his ears 

I'd rather be a tortoise from Galapagos 
Or a span of geological time 
Than be living in these dog years 

In a dog's brain 
A constant buzz of low level static 
One sniff at the hydrant 
And the answer is automatic 

It seems to me 
As well make our own few circles 'round the block 
We've lost our senses 
For the higher level static of talk