I seen ma dawg squat on this lawn o' mine
an’ his plan were not hard t' divine:
he’s gonna empty out his ol’ behin’
but ’cause he’s mine, that dawg ain’t dyin’.

I git uneasy seein’ doggy doo
and kind’a queasy when I smell it, too.
But tho’ I’m purty P -O’ed at Ol’ Blue,
because he’s mine, that dog ain’t dyin’.

Y’know a crappin’ cur’s a ugly sight.
I ought’a kick his mangy arse for spite.
But if I leave’im be he’ll act contrite
an’ ’cause he’s mine, that dawg ain’t dyin’

Wunst in this here park whar we reside
he left a pile by the next door double-wide
ma neighbor quick come a-runnin’ out an’ cried,
“’Cause he ain’t mine, that dawg is dyin’!”

(Now) I keep a close watch on this mutt o’ mine
’cause he’s a mighty busy-butt canine.
I need t’ stem the tide from his behin’
but ’cause he’s mine, that dawg ain’t dyin’.