Song to Myself

Song to Myself

Life it ain’t nothing but a dog upon a bone—
Something chewing something from a life that’s not its own,
What was left from someone’s dinner is now lying on the floor.
Do you think the dog ever wonders just what the man is for?

I need a break from you.
I need a break from you too.
I need a break from all of you.

I always thought this sadness was a disease for a younger man
The fellow racing rats, you know, the fellow with a plan,
Always looking over his shoulder and carrying a heavy load,
But when you get a little older, you start looking down the road.

I need a break from you.
I need a break from you too.
I need a break from all of you.

I found myself at sixteen and again at twenty-three.
I found myself so many times you’d think there’d be nothing left of me.
But I’ve still got a penny in my pocket and my head up in the clouds,
My mind in the gutter, and I’m inordinately proud.
So what have you got to say for yourself, you boring, useless sap.
I’m so tired of putting up with your boring useless crap.

I need a break from you.
I need a break from you too.
I need a break from all of you.

Life it ain’t nothing but a dog upon a bone—
Something chewing something from a life that’s not its own,
What was left from someone’s dinner is now lying on the floor.
Do you think the dog ever wonders just what the man is for?

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