Mr. Dog-Bag-Pretended-Not-To-Notice

Lyrics

[Intro]
Six forty-seven AM.
The streetlights are just blinking out.
The dew on Mrs. Henderson's fescue grass.
And here he comes.

[Verse 1]
He's got the retractable leash, all the way out.
Buster, the little terrier, sniffing the petunias.
On his belt loop, a plastic bone.
A dispenser for the bags he never seems to have.
It's a prop.
A small piece of theater for the neighborhood.
He walks with a purpose that isn't really there.
Just killing time before the coffee's brewed.

[Chorus]
And then Buster stops.
A little crouch, a wagging tail.
And Mr. Dog-Bag-Pretended-Not-To-Notice performs his move.
The look left.
The look right.
The art of the practiced oversight.
A little tug on the leash, and they're gone.
He saw nothing.
He swears he saw nothing.

[Verse 2]
Later today, around eight.
Mrs. Henderson will come out with her watering can.
She'll see it there, on the EverGreen Elite.
A dark little monument to his morning walk.
She won't yell.
She'll just sigh, the way she did last Friday.
She'll get the trowel from the shed and a plastic grocery bag.
And she'll clean up the thing he pretended wasn't there.

[Chorus]
Because Buster stopped.
A little crouch, a wagging tail.
And Mr. Dog-Bag-Pretended-Not-To-Notice performed his move.
The look left.
The look right.
The art of the perfect oversight.
A little tug on the leash, and they're gone.
He saw nothing.
He will always see nothing.

[Bridge]
It's the shopping cart left in the middle of the aisle.
It's the last cup of coffee, and the empty pot.
It's the small, silent tear in the fabric of things.
The quiet hum of a rage you can't quite place.
He just keeps walking.
Past the corner oak tree.
His civic duty performed by looking away.

[Outro]
Six forty-eight AM.
Buster is happy.
The street is quiet again.
And on the lawn...
a little brown ghost.
Waiting for Mrs. Henderson.