William Shatner's Dog (Stephen Fretwell)

I walk by the water and Head for your house Though I know that you'll be out In some dirty city bar I stand on your street And I stare at your room And the shadows play and move And your brother comes out with a bat Sayin that You might be with your sister in Paris On the Rue Turnau Wearing Marline Dietrich glasses Where we made that bet That bet I knew you'd win for sure When you where sick on the floor The calico's ripped Beneath the patch It's an itch I can never scratch Now it's so far gone in the past The fines I'm Having trouble to contest With the library book you kept The one that sent your head so far west Far far away In those continental cities Where they get in a race To see who can build the tallest buildings Where you went for some space And wound up With a slightly redder face And a pain in your gut I turn on the TV And I see there your face And in it is not one trace Of that old brown bowl of lace And that bowl of lace Is sat beside the gas bar fire Where you probably laid Eating ice cream chocolate lollies That your mother brought home From the freezer store On the Old Kent Road She too had enough And that look on your face That you'd throw across the dinner table In the middle of grace Your fathers eyes closed shut tight And it happend like that Every damn night That I had to come To your house Well tell Charles O'Keefe That I don't want to go to Paris It's sunnier here And I'm happy in this loveless marriage With the girl from the Pru And your father and your sister And your mother too And not forgeting you