Out here
it’s a dog’s life, dawg
First up in the morning for load-in
last to bed with ears ringing
and nostrils stinging;
there is no leisure time
or sight-seeing for
the road crew.
No first class
no primo ass
just cast-off skanks
and crooked spines
from humping gear
and dodging guitars.
Seventh generation herpes scabs
and the dust off the speaker cabs
is the best we can hope for -
an album thanks
free daily catering and a
well-stamped passport at best.
But we don’t do this for the money
or even the drugs or chicks
we do it for the music
we do it because
like the band, without it
it’s either prison or death for people like us.
It’s a dog’s life, dawg
and it’s a good job we’re all road dogs.
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