D# F In a dog's life D#/G F A year is really more like seven D# F And all too soon a canine D#/F# F/A Will be chasing cars in doggie heaven A# C It seems to me A# C As we make our own few circles 'round the sun A# C We get it backwards A#/D C/E And our seven years go by like one Chorus: G D/F# D E Dog years, it's the season of the itch G D A G Dog years, with every scratch it reappears In the dog days People look to Sirius Dogs cry for the moon But those connections are mysterious It seems to me While it's true that every dog will have his day When all the bones are buried There is barely time to go outside and play Chorus: Dog years, it's the season of the itch Dog years, with every scratch it reappears Dog years, for every sad son of a bitch Dog years, with his tail between his ears F G F I'd rather be a tortoise from Galapagos G F G Or a span of geological time I'd rather be a tortoise from Galapagos Or a span of geological time D# F Than be living in these dog years Living in these dog years In a dog's brain A constant buzz of low level static One sniff at the hydrant And the answer is automatic It seems to me As we make our own few circles around the block We've lost our senses For the higher level static of talk Chorus: Dog years, for every sad son of a bitch Dog years, with his tail between his ears In the dog years In the dog years In the dog years In the dog years In the dog years | TransposeReset Font sizeReset Chords fingeringsA A# C D D# E F F# F G |