Dedicated to Plasticeye

If you didn't care what happened to me,

and I didn't care for you,
we would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain,
occasionally glancing up through the rain
wondering which of the buggers to blame
and watching for pigs on the wing.

You know that I care what happens to you,
and I know that you care for me,
so I don't feel alone,
or the weight of the stone,
now that I've found somewhere safe
to bury my bone.
And any fool knows a dog needs a home,
a shelter from pigs on the wing.