| Don’t go down Highland Street
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| All that much anymore
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| But I had to get my glasses fixed
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| Right there in front
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| Of the old coffee shop was Walter
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| Just sitting where he’d always sit
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| & he was staring in the window
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| & maybe at you
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| Or maybe at whomever’s walking him
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| To fetch your muffins & your Sunday papers
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| The way we used to
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| I don’t drink coffee
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| All that much anymore
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| When I do I fix it at home
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| Don’t do the crosswords Sundays
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| I can feel dumb other ways
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| I could never finish them alone
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| Sundays I ride down to the dog park
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| On the other side of town
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| Just to sit down in the shade
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| & watch those puppies running round
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| I don’t miss feeling bad & dreading every call
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| The constant screaming dialogue
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| I swear that there were some days
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| It felt like I was only
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| Coming around for your dog
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| All those sunny days with Walter
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| Chasing squirrels around the park
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| & the way he’d flip
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| When he would see me coming
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| Like the way he did this morning
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| With his big old Walter bark
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| Bark bark
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| Bark bark
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| Bark bark
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| Hey there Walter
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| Bark bark
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| Clip of Dog, presumably Walter, barking |