I’m a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone; 
I’m a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own; 
I’m a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep; 
I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep. 

I’ll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet, 
A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat, 
Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate, 
But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate. 

Not for me the other dogs, running by my side, 
Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide. 
O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best, 
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!

Followers of PSY ॐ