Third Wheeling

🎼 Title: “Third Wheeling”

Performed by: Jules Baptiste & Renée DuBois

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He stretches like Sinatra, takes up the whole bed,

Tail in my ribs, his nose by your head.

You blink at me, he gives a sigh—

Oh sure, I’m the guest in my own goodbye!

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Last night I reached for you, but met a paw,

He grunted, turned, I whispered “¡Ay, caramba!”

You call it cute—he calls it fate.

He’s not possessive… just won’t negotiate.

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🎵 (He’s the velvet sovereign… in a four-pawed tux.)

(We pay the rent—) he just shrugs.

(My hand in yours? He’ll make a scene—)

With doe eyes sharp and a gait pristine.

He’ll share your couch, your chair, your steak—

But he alone picks who gets the cake.

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Remember the sofa? You sat—he stared.

I perched on the arm. “Don’t mind me,” I declared.

Dinner for two? Oh, make that three.

And guess who gets the napkin—not me.

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He sighs when I leave, throws shade when I dance,

Gives you his paw, gives me no chance.

You think he’s loyal, I think he’s slick—

One paw on your lap, and I’m out quick.

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🎵 (He’s the velvet sovereign… with a bedtime clause.)

(We pay the rent—) he rewrote the laws.

(We try to cuddle? He lands mid-sprawl—)

The royal wall that outranks us all.

He’ll share your smile, your lap, your fate—

But he alone curates your soulmate.

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I thought you liked dogs?

: I do. But not ones who hog the plotline.

: He’s refined.

: He’s ridiculous.

And somehow… we’re the ones adjusting pillows.

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🎵 He’s the velvet sovereign… with impeccable taste,

Our romance now has less waist-to-waist.

But truth be told—we can’t complain,

He guards your dreams like royal terrain.

He picked his throne, our hearts, this place…

The dog who runs our whole damn space.