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a band called quinn - he's a dog lyrics

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too much choice is a terrible thing
when the gold feels old on a wedding ring
from a little girl running to the sound of the bell
and a grandmother’s eye like a wishing well

he’s a dog
he can’t help himself
he’s a dog
he can’t help himself

there’s no kind of woman
there’s no kind of breed
that he couldn’t foresee some possibilities
from the darkest princess to the whitest queen
and all those magical places that lie inbetween

he’s a dog
he can’t help himself
he’s a dog
he can’t help himself

so all you dear ladies
he don’t care if you bathe
he’ll show you a good time
if you come his way
he’s just a little boy lost in a big sweetie store
gotta let him in
to climb on your shore

- a band called quinn lyrics

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