If . . . (Doghouse)

Scott Simpson

If I can just find the spot on my wife that I can find on my dog
The spot that makes the leg kick around like a science-experiment frog
I’d tickle that spot and laugh till I cried
‘Stead of walking ‘round this lonely ol’ yard like somebody died

The sheets on our bed would be set into motion
The neighbors would knock and ask “What’s the commotion?”
I’d gain her respect and I’d earn her devotion
If I could just find that spot …

If I could just tickle my wife on that spot that I found
And wear her plumb out till she stopped making sounds
She’d leave me in peace to do some of my thinking
And wouldn’t complain about all my drinking

She might even lie tired in the corner like my devoted Tick Hound
And chew on a pig’s ear or an antler she found
If only my wife could be that happy just chewing on bone
Instead of chewing my ear off over the phone

Why I’d be happy too and not way out yonder here
And we could peacefully get ourselves on in our years

If I could just tickle my wife on that spot that I found
Get her leg in the air going round and round
She might lick my feet – even between the toes
Lick the wax from my ears and the snot from my nose

She might lick my wounds to help them all heal
Become happy with scraps and the occasional meal
Then I’d scratch on her backside whenever she reared
Scratch the top of her head and behind both of her ears

If I could just scratch at that spot and make my wife all twitchy
Go hard at that spot as if it were itchy
It just might be the cure that would make her not so … Serious
We could both find Nirvana – walk around all delirious

If I could just find the spot on my wife that I can find on my dog
That spot that makes the leg kick around like a science-experiment frog
I’d tickle that spot and laugh till I cried
‘Stead of walking ‘round this lonely ol’ yard like somebody died

And I’d be her man again and not just a louse
She might even let me back in the house

 

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