It was on a Wednesday
The sky was all gray
A late afternoon in November
The library bus
Was stoppin' by us
That day I would always remember
My books were real late
I knew I would pay
A fine of a few hundred pennies
I had me a pup
When the book bus pulled up
When it drove off, I didn't have any
The bookmobile ran over my dog
Over my dog, over my dog
She's still and she's stiff as a fireplace log
The bookmobile ran over my dog
She didn't bark
When the bookmobile parked
On the street out in front of the building
She was real hushed
Because she'd been crushed
Under the wheels and the shelving
Now I could blame God
And that would be odd
If I was Christopher Hitchens
It's hard to have faith
When your books were all late
And the library just did your bitch in
The bookmobile ran over my dog
Over my dog, over my dog
I buried her under a tree in the bog
The bookmobile ran over my dog
The bookmobile ran over my dog ...
(Lyrics and music: Smith)