I spotted you across the street,
But dared not look your way,
Cos’ my dog didn’t please you,
When he wet your leg that day.
You tried to feed him a steak,
Laced with arsenic I believe,
You chucked it over our six foot fence,
Luckily, he never could retrieve.
He hates you and that soft top,
That you drive past our gate,
And we see you peepin’ in,
Hoping it’s that very steak he ate.
And whilst he woofs you off to work,
He gets a real bloody itch,
And just can’t wait to jump the fence,
And love your pedigree bitch.
You called my mate a mongrel,
And ugly as well,
Dared to point your shotgun,
At my dog, your dog from hell.
But I can now hear the yappin’,
And the scratchin’ on the fence,
Of eight little mongrel puppies,
And justice sure makes sense.