sometimes i'm even out of touch with copp. i wonder, what is he thinking back there?

i look back and he's following at a distance waiting for me to look for him. and what's my hurry, anyway? where am i going? why am i fusterated?

 i can't give him any reason. because i know i'm not going anywhere in a hurry.

and mostly he's a consolation for that, for not going anywhere, when i can tune in to his wavelength. he reminds me, in the heart of things, we're always right here, there's nowhere we need to go.

and i know, i've been somewhere's before,
and i felt restless there too. for what? for more, i 'spect,
though dogs want that too, but it's 
always here.

that's why i always lay my head on his, 
i want to rest my head,
i want to be here with him,
i want more to be enough.

and it is, enough.
yet i'm a weak man, a jealous, craving man,
a man who never wanted to be a man
who wanted less in this world,
who would be content 
to be a dog.