Gone to the Dogs  
      Down at the dogs the bets are placed  
      A wad of notes rolled in a hand 
      The floodlit track is center stage  
      For winning hounds to take the stand 

      In old covert coats and trilby hats  
      The owners swan around the place 
      The tic tac man throws out his arms  
      His thin moustache stretched on his face 

      Gone to the dogs the man and his life 
      He stands by the rail and looks at the sky 
      Confused by the thoughts  
      That stew in his mind  
      Alone by the track on a Saturday night 

      Gone to the dogs  
      He stands and reflects 
      Gone to the dogs  
      And has no regrets 

      The restaurant's full and table bets  
      Are taken by the girls who serve 
      The basket meals and German wine  
      Excitement mounts  
      The buzz is heard  
      The stadium is full of screams  
      And cigar smoke is in the air 
      The dogs race around on their last lap  
      And down the straight they chase the hare

      (c) 1991 Virgin Music Inc.

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