Dog Years (Letra)

Maggie Rogers

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I count my time in dog years
Swimming in sevens
Slow dancing in seconds
Oh, and I’m the one that loves you
Oh, and I’m the one that loves you

I spend my time daydreaming
As sure as the sea
It’s just you and me
Oh, and I’m the one that loves you
Oh, and I’m the one that loves you

And if you had a bad week
Just let me touch your cheek
Oh, and I’ll be there waiting
When you get frustrated
I know things are changing
But, darling, I’m saying
I’ll be singing you in all of my songs

Come what may
I’ll still stay
Inside your mind
For all of time
Singing, ooh
We will be alright
In the afterlife

Of all that is shifting
And shaking my system
I know your rhythm
And I know, I know, I know, I know
That I’m the one that loves you
Oh, and I’m the one that loves you

And if you had a bad week
Then I’ll sing you to sleep
Oh, and I’ll be there waiting
If you start to get jaded
I know things are changing
But, darling, I’m saying
I’ve been here all along

Come what may
I’ll still stay
Inside your mind
For all of time
Singing, ooh
We will be alright

Not in vain
We’ll still stay the same
Inside your mind
For all of time
Singing, ooh
We will be alright
In the afterlife
In the afterlife

I count my time in dog years, dog years, dog years, dog years, dog years
We will be alright (Dog years, dog years)
We will be alright (Dog years, dog years)
In the afterlife (Dog years, dog years, dog years, dog years)
Singing, baby, we will be alright (Dog years, dog years)
We will be alright
We will be alright

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Dog Years (Letra)

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Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson

In a dog’s life
A year is really more like seven
And all too soon a canine
Will be chasing cars in doggie heaven

It seems to me
As we make our own few circles ‘round the sun
We get it backwards
And our seven years go by like one

Dog years — it’s the season of the itch
Dog years — with every scratch it reappears

In the dog days
People look to sirius
Dogs cry for the moon
But these 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

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

I’d rather be a tortoise from galapagos
Or a span of geological time
Than be 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 well make our own few circles ‘round the block
We’ve lost our senses
For the higher-level static of talk