A dog sits waiting in the
cold autumn sun,
Too faithful to leave,
too frightened to run.
He's been here for days now,
with nothing to do,
But sit by the road,
waiting for you.
He can't understand why
you left him that day.
He thought you and he
were stopping to play.
He's sure you'll be back,
and that's why he stays.
How long will he suffer?
How many more days?
His legs have grown weak,
his throat's parched and dry,
He's sick now from hunger
and falls, with a sigh.
He lays down his head
and closes his eyes,
I wish you could see
how a waiting dog dies.
