I see by his coat he must be a stray,
the untidy look gives him away.
He’s lost his will and is so thin
hasn’t eaten, since God knows when.
I know as I coax him through the door,
There’s always room for one more.
The other night in the freezing rain,
That little female came again.
Matted and soaked crying in need,
lost and alone with babies to feed.
Her pleading eyes I couldn’t ignore,
There’s always room for one more.
There’s a new face on the docks today,
hungry but clean, to our dismay,
I stroked her head, her body rippled,
when she got up, I saw she was crippled
she started to go, but fell on the floor.
There’s always room for one more.
There’s the poor doggy standing in the rain.
I’ve tried to entice him, time and again.
One ear’s lopsided, the other’s been torn,
Blind in one eye, lost and forlorn.
He’s coming now, so I’ll open the door.
There’s always room for one more.
