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I'm a dog, and I can smell your smell right through your clothes
And I espouse some views that you yourself just might not hold
Sometimes I am given pause to think when
I consider what we could call the Good Life
When it comes to the city versus the country life
Well, I must say that I far prefer a farmer's wife:
Breakfast with the master in the morning
Feel the breeze and brush against a cow's leg, mmm!
Chorus
But it seems the thinkers you call
Greatest are the sort who often fall
Ill young, or pine away
How can they help but drag the species down?
There's some debate about whether instincts should be held in check:
Well, I suppose that I'm a liberal in this respect
I can't say I liked Robinson Crusoe
But at least he didn't tie his dogs up at night
chorus
How come all of your poets fall into despondencies?
And then write it down for us to read every indignity!
Not such worth specimens, these creatures:
Hardly fit for what you could call the Good Life
chorus
How can they help but drag the species down?
Charles Aznavour:
