Ode to my Daschund. (sung to the tune of "I Think I love you.")

I was sleeping, and right in the middle of a good dream
Like all at once I wake up from something that keeps licking at my ear
Before I go insane I hold my pillow to your face.
Isn't that what life is made of?

I think I love you,
you ugly littler snoozer.
I've fallen for a loser.

This morning I woke up with this wet spot
I didn't know how to deal with and so I just decided to myself
I'd hide it to myself, and never talk about it
And did not go and shout it when you waddled into the room.

I'm afraid that I'm not sure of a bite there is no cure for.
Of all the Daschund babies,
I picked the one with rabies.

Do you think I have a case,
let me ask you to your ugly little face.
(I think I love you...)

So what am I so afraid of?
The fur my pillow is made of.
And your secret damn parade of
excremental statuettes,
and your silent gassy jets.

THAT'S what my life is made of!
Though it worries me to say
I never felt this soiled.

We share your cage together.

We're self-loathing misanthropes.
Let's go hang ourselves with ropes!

(I think I love you...)