the ghosts of my bitch miranda

I used to have a faithful dog
The kind that loved to wag it's tail
I used to have a homely dog
That lay on the lap
That danced to my tap
Now I'm haunted by the ghosts of my dog Miranda
The one I put down with stones
And whip lashes with nails
Bitch bit me when I served
For I picked out lean meat and served her bones
And I would have let her live
For she got her fair share of bones from the neighbor's plate
And biting's off the butcher's counter
And leftovers from the butcher's wife
Miranda went around and came back home to scrappings off the floor
I guess she felt she was stooping to low
Now I'm less someone to meet me at the door
And I'm haunted by ghosts each time I need a newspaper fetched or more

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