Tilly, O Tilly

Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey cloud.
Th' Borders ha' ne'er seen a Collie so wee yet so loud.
A-barkin' and crowin' when emotions abound.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

From mornin' till night, from sun up till sun down,
You guard and protect us from all beasts unknown.
(Aye, a dog's a good friend when a friend can't be found.)
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

Tilly, o Tilly, my grey cloud o' joy.
As awful as Nessie, as wee as a toy.
Your antics amuse and confuse and astound.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

Aye, the sun did shine down on us that glorious day,
You appeared from the wood, unkempt and long stray.
You were quite quiet then, makin' nary a sound.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

But Tilly, o Tilly, the noise you make now;
Hate is a growl, and love is a crow.
An ounce of emotion becomes sound by the pound.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

Why is't you love humans, but loathe your own kind?
You may love us quite dearly, but never d'you mind.
If only you'd listen... but you're too tightly wound.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

Tilly, you wear silver linin' outside.
Within's the cloud of impishness, you ne'er try to hide.
Your snout is so pointy, your eyes blue and round.
Tilly, o Tilly, my little grey hound.

Alan "Burns" Pagliere - 6/1/94