A black dog jumps up on my knee and whispers in my ear,
He tells me all I'd never be and knows my every fear,
He chews on every part of me, and laps up every tear
"the rope around my neck is key, your final day is here"
You'll never see a better day,
Each one, will be the worst,
You've made your bed so down you lay,
you wouldn't be the first.

An angel tells me "slow your pace, your time is yet to come"
I tried to hide, oh my disgrace, the things which I have done.
She points down to the starting block, "your race is not yet run"
She placed a hand upon my face and told me "you're their sun"
They will need you on your better days,
And love you on your worst,
You have to break the cycle, please,
Don't leave the poor lambs cursed.

The dog barks back now, "angel, you'd better hold her tongue,
He whispers his reminder then, that "pain will right your wrong,
Her words are trite, they're banal, the devil wrote your song
Go deep and make it fatal, not across, you cut along,
You have all but lived your better days,
From here they'll all get worse,
We both know how this one plays,
don't write a final verse".

Rubbing belly, full of life, she shows me how I'm needed,
She takes my hand, then the knife, lest the black dogs words be heeded,
"face with me, all your strife" her tear streaked eyes had pleeded,
"who made such beauty not once but twice? We did, baby, we did.
We will need you on your better days,
You will need us on your worst,
But daddy, please, come home and play,
Don't leave us poor lambs cursed.