The Day Off

If the head was smaller
If the tail were longer
If he faced the water
If the paws were hidden
If the neck was darker
If the back was curved
More like the parasol

Bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum bum
More shade
More tail
More grass!
Would you like some more grass?
Hmmm

Ruff! Ruff!
Thanks, the week has been rough!
When you're stuck for life on a garbage scow
Only forty feet long from stern to prow
And a crackpot in the bow-wow, rough!
The planks are rough
And the wind is rough
And the master's drunk and mean and-
Grrrruff! Gruff!
With the fish and scum
And planks and ballast-
The nose gets numb
And the paws get callused
And with splinters in your ass
You look forward to the grass
On Sunday
The day off
Off! Off! Off!
Off!

The grass needs to be thicker Perhaps a few weeds
And some ants. if you would
I love fresh ants

Roaming around on Sunday
Poking among the roots and rocks
Nose to the ground on Sunday
Studying all the shoes and socks
Everything's worth it Sunday
The day off
Bits of pastry
Piece of chicken
Here's a handkerchief
That somebody was sick in

There's a thistle
That's a shallot
That's a dripping
From the loony with the palette

Yap! Yap!
Yap!
Out for the day on Sunday
Off of my lady's lap at last
Yapping away on Sunday
Helps you forget the week just past-
Yap!
Everything's worth it Sunday
The day off
Yap!
Stuck all week on a lady's lap
Nothing to do but yawn and nap
Can you blame me if I yap?

Nope

There's only so much attention a dog can take
Being alone on Sunday
Rolling around in mud and dirt-

Begging a bone on Sunday
Settling for a spoiled dessert-

Everything's worth it

Sunday

The day off

Something fuzzy
Something furry
Something pink
That someone tore off in a hurry

What's the muddle
In the middle?
That's the puddle
Where the poodle did the piddle

Taking the day on Sunday
Now that the dreary week is dead
Getting away on Sunday
Brightens the dreary week ahead
Everyone's on display on Sunday-

The day off!

Bonnet flapping
Bustle sliding
Like a rocking horse that nobody's been riding
There's a daisy-
And some clover-
And that interesting fellow looking over

Nurse!

One day is much like any other
Listening to her snap and drone

Still, Sunday with someone's dotty mother
Is better then Sunday with your own
Mothers may drone, mothers may whine-
Tending to his, though, is perfectly fine
It pays for the nurse that is tending to mine
On Sunday
My day off

You know, Franz-I believe that artist is drawing us
Who?
Monsieur's friend
Monsieur would never think to draw us! We are only people he looks down upon

Second bottle
Ah, she looks for me
He is bursting to go
Near the fountain
I could let him
How to manage it-?
No

I should have been an artist. I was never intended for work

Artists work, Franz. I believe they work very hard
Work!
We work

We serve their food
We carve their meat
We tend to their house
We polish their
Silverware

The food we serve
We also eat
For them we rush
Wash and brush
Wipe and wax
Franz, relax

While he "creates"
We scrpe their plates
And dust their knickknacks
Hundreds to the shelf
Work is what you do for others, Liebchen
Art is what you do for yourself

Look
Where?
Soldiers
Alone

What do you think?
I like the one in the light hat

Mademoiselles
I and my friend
We are but soldiers!

Passing the time
In between wars
For weeks at an end

Both of them are perfect
You can have the other
I don't want the other
I don't want the other either

And after a week
Spent mostly indoors
With nothing but soldiers
Ladies, I and my friend
Trust we will not offend
Which we'd never intend
By suggesting we spend-
Oh, spend-
This magnificent Sunday-
Oh, Sunday-
With you and your friend

The one on the right's an awful bore
He's been in a war
We may get a meal and we might get more
It's certainly fine for Sunday
It's certainly fine for Sunday
It's certainly fine for Sunday

You and me, pal
We're the loonies
Did you know that?
Bet you didn't know that

'Cause we tell them the truth!
Who you drawing?
Who the hell you think you're drawing?
Me?
You don't know me!
Go on drawing
Since you're drawing only what you want to see
Anyway!
One eye, no illusion
That you get with two
One for what is true
One for what suits you
Draw your wrong conclusion
All you artists do
I see what is true

Taking the day on Sunday
After another week is dead

Nurse!

Getting away on Sunday
Brightens the dreary week ahead

Nurse!

Leaving the city pressure
Behind you
Off where the air is fresher
Where green, blue blind you