Chain link fence got a sign, says “BAD DOG”
But I ain’t got no fear
Man livin’ here ain’t got a dog
Mostly sits on the porch and drinks Coors beer
I don’t know this guy too good
He sometimes packs a gun
Seems nice enough when he’s smoking weed
Heard he might be on the run
From who or what I’m not quite sure
The dude don’t like to brag
But he’s got the best weed around
And I could use a bag
“Hey, what’s up Tom,” I yell to him
As I open up the gate
He waves his hand to wave me in
And I oblige my fate
He opens up the front door
As I start to climb the steps
We usually sit on the front porch
But he wants me to come in
I ain’t been in the house before
I think he lives alone
He’s been renting it for almost a year
Then says, “Give me your phone”
We’re standing in the doorway
I hesitate, “What’s up”
“A lot of shit been goin’ down,” he says
I tell him, “My phone’s out in the truck”
Curtains drawn in dark front room
Two couches and a chair
There’s a long-haired dude without a shirt
Snorting lines on a broken mirror
“Have a seat, you want some weed”
“Yeah, if it’s good shit”
He opens up a wooden box
And throws me a nice plump lid
I hold it up to the table light
Looks good and smelling right
I pull out a pipe and pack some bud
And give the thing a light
Two big hits and hold it long
Yep, this stuff is gonna work
I place my money on the table
Put the lid into my shirt
Tom walks to me as I pack up
Then slips around behind
Before I know what’s going on
There’s a knife across my throat
“You ever been cut before”
Scrapes the knife against my skin
My mind spins like a pinwheel
It’s quite a fix I’m in
“Hey, man, what you doin”
I try to keep my cool
“Some people been talkin’ shit about me”
He taps me with the tool
“You ever talk to the cops about me”
He says with whispered hiss
His mouth was up behind my ear
The blade firmly on my skin
“No man, never,” I calmly say
I try to hide my fright
He keeps the blade up close and tight
I’m thinkin’ I might die
It seems like an eternity
Probably only a couple of minutes
My whole life flashes before me
As I reach my mental limits
And just as quick, Tom eases grip
The knife backs off my throat
He walks around, powerful now
Twinkling in his gloat
He then gets up close to my face
Waves the knife up in the air
“Just have to be sure” he says with a glare
“The heat is on ‘round here”
“It’s cool,” I say, and back away
“You don’t have to worry about me”
“I don’t deal with cops, never have”
“Just trying to score some weed”
“OK, man, you seem cool enough”
“I just got to be real sure”
“Somebody ‘round here been talkin’ shit”
Raises knife, “And I got just the cure”
“No problem man, it’s all good”
As my perspiration beads
I open the door, turn towards Tom
“Thanks again for the weed”
Out the door and down the steps
I hop into my truck
I lock the doors and start it up
What the holy fuck!
Since then I’ve driven past that house
On many different times
But I don’t stop, ‘cause I know the man
BAD DOG………just like on the sign
Waipahu Bob 