Email from Dog to Man

Hey man, how you doin'?

I was chewin' on your shoe 
But gettin' pretty bored
So I thought I'd write to show you
How much that you're adored
I was gonna' use a pen
To be like Beckett, Joyce or Donne
'Til suddenly it struck me
That I don't have any thumbs

I hope it doesn't scare you
That I've taught myself to type
I learnt how to read
Through the blogs people write
Please try to forgive me
If my grammar is shite
But I've no preconceptions
About what's wrong or what's right

See, I've known you a long time; I've analysed you closely
This life that you've been living is a parasitic parody
That feeds upon the blood of self-fulfilling tragedy
Where days & weeks meet months & years with vague familiarity
But never are your boundaries pushed to be the best the self can be.
Don't turn around in years from now and say that you remember me
When all you've ever seen me as is lucid domesticity
And only in your darkest moments looked to find the light in me

Look, I'm not trying to sound harsh, I'm just speaking my mind

I'd be everything you are if i knew how to lie
Your world is my life, man, if you asked me to die
I'd push back my ears and politely comply

But I have watched
And loved
Watched
And hated
Watched
And integrated
Hate with love as easily as
Innocence is obliterated
I have heard you screaming out the names
Whose overdose in pleasure brought you pain

And I have listened

As patiently as the wives of war
Victims pacing hospital corridors
Listened
To the horrors
That man
Brings upon
Man

Yet still you rather the cat
'Cause he looks after himself
Steals ham from the table
And cheese off the shelf
There's no co-dependence
It's each to their own
If your world fell apart
He'd just lick his own hole

I just think you should know
He's been plottin’ your death
Ever since that last ill-fated
Trip to the vet
Though looks are deceiving
He's completely insane
He's got no sense of reason
And he's numbered your days

But you see, sometimes, I wish I could talk
Or bring you for a walk
On a lead so you could see how it feels
To be me
'Cause if I could talk I too would blame astrology
Or clinical psychology, religious ideologies
Or pharmaceutical dichotomies
For everything that's wrong with me
When in reality
I am an animal
Who was born and who will die
Happy in the knowledge that I have lived and loved my time

So if you get this
And I hope that you do
I just want you to know
That, well, I'm sorry about your shoe
But don't be worried about me
There's no need to reply
Just talk a bit louder
I'll be here by your side.