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A cayote, a creature of sorrow.
Fighting, struggling, just to make it to tommorow
Not a dog because it cant be a house pet
Or a wolf, because not enough "cool people" like them yet
Just a lonely little mutt, no one would notice it's death
No value to its name, no reason for its breath
No pack to call its own, just a wandering stray
Scouting the earth, searching for place for his head to lay
Many enemies, but so few allies
Who would care for such a creature ?
All the howls, all the cries
Deal with its shady past, trust the thieving little p***k
Look at all he's done, isn't enough to make you sick
But no he doesn't care, he'll just walk right on and away
He knows all too well, every dog has his day
Knowing when to fight, and when to take his leave
Completely content with some food, and fresh air to breathe
Why don't you give him a change, extend your hand to him
Could be some thing nice, maybe some thing pleasant will begin