The forgotten tail of how Hank wrote "move it on over"

In a moonlit alley, where the whiskey bled,
Hank sat on the doghouse, his heart heavy as lead.
Audrey’s fiery eyes had thrown him to the street,
But ol’ Whisker Strings strummed, making sorrow sweet.


Whisker Strings played a bluesy tune,
His paws danced on the frets, under the silver moon.
Hank’s heartache echoed in each melancholy chord,
As the dog below howled, dreams forever ignored.

Audrey slammed the door, her heels tapping mad,
While Whisker Strings riffed, whiskers sharp and glad.
The dog’s ears drooped low, seeking solace in sleep,
But Hank’s heartache kept rhythm, a secret he’d keep.

Whisker Strings played a bluesy tune,
His paws danced on the frets, under the silver moon.
Hank’s heartache echoed in each melancholy chord,
As the dog below howled, dreams forever ignored.

Audrey’s voice echoed down the alleyway,
“Move it on over, Hank, find a new place to stay!”
But Whisker Strings strummed defiance in the night,
His feline soul wailing, stars as witness to their fight.

Whisker Strings played a bluesy tune,
His paws danced on the frets, under the silver moon.
Hank’s heartache echoed in each melancholy chord,
As the dog below howled, dreams forever ignored.

So there they were—man, cat, and faithful hound,
In a tangled serenade, lost love unbound.
Whisker Strings sang the blues, Hank hummed along,
And the dog’s dreams floated upward, a lonesome song.