Lord, Help Me Be the Man(My Dog Thinks I Am)

[couchgrouch]

Lord, Help Me Be the Man(My Dog Thinks I Am)Slapped a buncha change on the barsaid, "call it my platinum card"then fish-tailed off in my bucket o' rustafter four bourbons n chasersthose state troopers' tasersjust made my brain feel a little more buzzedbut when I made bail and fin'lly got homemy hound was waitin' at the gatewagged his tail when I tossed him a boneand later that night I prayedLord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I ama good and kind providernot a drunken midnight riderdown on my knees askin' pleaseLord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I amconned some blonde from Alabam'to thinkin' the class ring on my handwas really a Super Bowl ringafter we went skinnydippin'she stood there naked, mad and drippin'when she learned the Hedgehogs were a high school teambut I felt too good to feel badtill I scratched my old hound's earI'd never heard him snore like thatwhen I gave him half my beerLord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I ama master who couldn't be wisernot some selfish womanizerdown on my knees askin' pleaseLord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I amwell, I went to church to learn good worksand try to live a better lifebut I swore like a trucker, mispronounced Fuddrucker'sin front of the preacher's wifeO Lord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I ama righteous, honest personnot some cuss prone to cursin'down on my knees askin' pleaseLord, help me be the manmy dog thinks I am(c)2005 Robert George