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!