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A dog named Bo


Umulia
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And there were nights when I'd feel him

Climb upon our bed

And lie between us, And I'd pat his head.

 

And there were nights when I'd feel this stare

And I'd wake up and he'd be sitting there

And I reach out my hand and stroke his hair.

 

And sometimes I'd feel him sigh

and I think I know the reason why.

 

He would wake up at night

And he would have this fear

Of the dark, of life, of lots of things,

And he'd be glad to have me near.

 

And now he's dead.

And there are nights when I think I feel him

Climb upon our bed and lie between us,

And I pat his head.

 

And there are nights when I think

I feel that stare

And I reach out my hand to stroke his hair,

But he's not there.

 

Oh, how I wish that wasn't so,

I'll always love a dog named Bo.

 

Fra et digt af Jimmy Stewart.

Fandt lige digtet og opdagede at jeg ikke er den eneste der savner en hund ved navn Bo...

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