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In The Dreamlife Of Dogs Lyrics
what occurs in the mind
of a cur by the fire?
on the rug as he growls and he drools;
as he spasms and twitches ?
a bloodbath of rabbits
where the faecal aromas are sublime?
in the dream life of dogs
these we think are the riches
there the crow's provocation
will no longer be endured
there the insolent rat is subued
and is stricken and shaken
there as king of the rains
the wild rover (the bitches' rump so fine...)
this the dream life of dogs?
or are we mistaken?
for all that we know
in the hound's inner world
there are marvels to rival
the greatest that man can envision:
a palace of scent
where the laws of the pack are redefined
is the dream life of dogs
maybe ripe for revision?
but the dog as he sleeps
is opaque as we are
we dream as we live all alone
in the nightmare of history
and as much as i know who you are
in the dark behind your eyes
the dream life of dogs
is no more of a mystery
of a cur by the fire?
on the rug as he growls and he drools;
as he spasms and twitches ?
a bloodbath of rabbits
where the faecal aromas are sublime?
in the dream life of dogs
these we think are the riches
will no longer be endured
there the insolent rat is subued
and is stricken and shaken
there as king of the rains
the wild rover (the bitches' rump so fine...)
this the dream life of dogs?
or are we mistaken?
in the hound's inner world
there are marvels to rival
the greatest that man can envision:
a palace of scent
where the laws of the pack are redefined
is the dream life of dogs
maybe ripe for revision?
is opaque as we are
we dream as we live all alone
in the nightmare of history
and as much as i know who you are
in the dark behind your eyes
the dream life of dogs
is no more of a mystery
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From a December 2015 blog post by Barry Andrews himself:
"This was the easiest Shriek tune to translate to the piano because the pianisms were already built into the original. I liked the idea of some slightly camp and florid piano adorning a tune about a dog twitching on the hearthrug, not totally sure why: foppish high culture and earthy houndliness perhaps being amusingly contrasted. The ridiculous arpeggio which opens the track is a private joke with myself. At secondary school (where playing piano was a skill, I discovered, which could often keep one’s head from being punched or put down the toilet) when ‘invited’ to perform for a coterie of hardnuts from the year above (‘dance, monkey, dance!’), I would open with just such a baroque flounce. I think the sheer Liberace-ness of it made me at once worthy of their indulgence - of grudging admiration even - and seem too strange and delicate a creature to be immediately destroyed."