PONGO (MY DOG) Copyright © 1967 Wayne & Jeff Linder


All curled up under a warm April sun.
In the plush mat of grass from the previous year.
With my little white dog, with his long black ears.
I can hear the spring air a-blowin'.

We hear the wind blow
We hear the wind roar
As off into daydreams
my pup and I soar.
Life seems so sweet,
at moments like these
Oh, why can't we have them
whenever we please.

It's summertime now where the summers are hot
The time of the year when the mad dogs are shot.
But not my dog, I know that for sure.
If he does get sick, Mommy'll find a cure.

We crawl through the fence on the way to the pond
And when we get there I shed the clothes I've got on.
We swim through the water and dry in the sun
Then we go home, our day is done.

The trees are burning inside or so it seems to me
The leaves have turned color and where is the honey bee.
I see ice on the puddles, and frost on the glass.
And even I know that Fall has come to pass.

The snow covers the fourth buckle on my five buckle boots.
And if you pack the hill just right, that old red sled sure scoots.
My dog still follows me on my paper route.
You know, if he sees a rabbit, he stands and points him out.

We hear the wind blow
We hear the wind roar
As off into daydreams
my pup and I soar.
Life seems so sweet,
at moments like these
Oh, why can't we have them
whenever we please.

These days are gone forever.
But not without regret.
And when things get ugly in this world,
Why do I forget? Why do I forget.




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