This song exists because the album needed it to. I'd had the title for a good while before I noticed there was no song by that name on the record—so the album was very nearly finished before its own title track got written.

The idea is the one in the title, taken literally and then not. Dogs hear things we can't: the car three blocks off, the cheese wrapper two rooms away, the storm that hasn't arrived yet. But somewhere in the middle of that list is another kind of hearing altogether—the kind where a friend says "I'm fine" and the dog is the one in the room who doesn't take it at face value.

That's the whole song, really. The difference isn't in the ear. It's that a dog has never once learned to hear something and look away.

He can hear my car from a mile away,
He can hear the mailman's boot,
He can hear a cheese wrap crinkle downstairs
Through a floor and a wall and a suit.
He can hear the freezer, hear the fridge,
Hear the leash come off the hook,
He can hear a squirrel change its mind
And doesn't have to look.

[Chorus]
There's a music only dogs can hear—
Too high, too soft, too near, too true.
I've got two good ears and a decent heart,
But he hears things I never do.

He can hear the thunder three towns off,
He can hear the storm's intent,
He can hear the wind change its mind
About the way it went.
He can hear a footstep going wrong,
He can hear a smile that lies,
He can hear "I'm fine" and know it isn't
Long before it reaches your eyes.

[Chorus]
There's a music only dogs can hear—
Too high, too soft, too near, too true.
I've got two good ears and a decent heart,
But he hears things I never do.

[Bridge]
Now the difference isn't in the ear—
That's the part we like to say.
It's that he has never learned to hear
A thing, and then look right away.

I heard my buddy say "I'm fine,"
His pain I didn't see.
My dog got up and crossed the room
Put his head on my friend's knee.
He hadn't any words to give,
He hadn't a thing to say—
He only heard the one true note,
And he did not look away.

[Chorus]
There's a music only dogs can hear—
Too high, too soft, too near, too true.
And I'd trade every word I know
To hear one honest thing come through.

He hears the car. He hears the leash.
He hears the crumb hit the kitchen floor.
He's the one I never lie to—
And he meets me at the door.