by Ray Stephens
I live in Bermagui, in a street near you,
my house is a plain one, my worries are few.
I live my own life, I stick to myself
but there’s just one thing and it’s killing my health
As neighbours go, I’m thoughtful and kind,
what the others do, I really don’t mind –
when the mowers start up, I turn a deaf ear;
when the music is loud, I pretend I can’t hear.
I’m deaf to the parties, the barby, the noise,
the kids in their gardens, the swings and the toys,
the washing that hangs and flaps in the breeze,
I can sit in the garden, I can take of my ease.
There’s just one person, the bane of my life,
his actions they cause me nothing but strife
For he owns a dog and he lets the thing roam,
the whole of the street, he takes as his own.
The dog chases cars, he turns over bins –
his owner should really try keeping him in.
He pees on my flowers, he poops on my lawn.
I curse the day – the day he was born.
So, if you live in my street and you own a dog,
be it small and fluffy or built like a hog,
keep your pet to yourself, just keep it at home,
so your friends and neighbours …
can have pets of their own!