Sleeping Dog

This particular piece probably doesn't belong in this collection - and it sounds a lot better with some guitar pickin' - but
country songs are, in my opinion, one of the purest forms of poetry.

Don't you tell me
That the past is the past
Cause nothing's been said and nothing's been done
Until I decide it has

Don't you blame it
On the whiskey or the boys
All of your excuses are downright useless
You better make some sense instead of noise

I got a bone to pick
I got an ax to grind
I got a sleeping dog
Who ain't gonna lie

I got a horse that's dead
And I won't stop beating
Until you tell me
Why you were cheating

I'm a force you'll be reckoning
That don't let go
It wasn't a slip and I won't forget
So I might as well know

What was was going on
Inside your pretty empty head
When you stumbled out that bar and fell
Into her bed

I got a bone to pick
I got an ax to grind
I got a sleeping dog
Who ain't gonna lie

I got a horse that's dead
And I won't stop beating
Until you tell me
Why you were cheating

I'm listening
And you're making quite a case
Explaining what you're claiming
Was just one big mistake

I understand
And I've got nothing left to prove
You said the words I hadn't heard
And that's all that you can do

So I'll put down the bone
And the ax and let 'em lie
Next to the sleeping dog
And that poor old horse that died

I'll forgive you once
And forget you twice
Cause as long as your heart's beating
I know it will be cheating
And I've got better lookin' fish to fry

I got a bone to pick
I got an ax to grind
I got a sleeping dog
Who ain't gonna lie

I got a horse that's dead
And I won't stop beating
Until you tell me
Why you were cheating