Our old cat died last night
Me wife says bury him out of sight
But we haven't got a garden;
'cos we're livin' in a flat
So what was I to do with the body of a cat,
Then a big brown paper bag I spied
so I stuffs the body of the cat inside.
And off I went with the body in the bag,
The body in the bag, ta ra ra ra.

I went into a public house and had a whisky neat
And stealthily I shoves me moggie underneath the seat.
Then I crawls out on my hands and knees;
But halfway up the town,
Here comes that bloody barman,
`Here's your parcel Mr. Brown,''
So I had to thank the silly sod
And give him half a crown
For returning me a body in the bag.

I throws it in the old canal,
but the hero of the play,
he throws himself in after it,
Oh,Hip hip hip, hooray!
Then he crawls out on the bank
And he stands dripping in a pool.
He said, ``I'm feeling rather wet
And very very cool.''
So I had to take me trousers off
And give 'em to the fool
For rescuing a body in the bag.

Well, I crept off down the street as quiet as a mouse
An' I laid me tragic bundle on the doorstep of a house,
But then the door it opened wide,
And there's this lady dressed in blue
says ``Excusez-moi monsieur,
But do you want to parlez-vous?''
"Oh God no missus, not tonight
-I've got something else to do!''
And I legged it with the body in the bag.

I climbs in the allotments, I am trying, to be brave,
I takes out me little shovel, and I digs a shallow grave,
But then there's someone pokes me in the back,
and a voice behind me said,
``You're digging my potatoes mate,
and I'm going to kill you dead!''
But I swings up with me pussy cat,
and I bashed him on the head,
And skedaddles with the body in the bag.

The all at once from inside the bag
I hears a plaintive meow
It's pussy trying to tell me something,
saying "I'm not dead now."
Now I've often heard it said, you know,
that cat's have got nine lives,
and it turns out Tommy's not a tom at all,
but one of Tommy's wives.
And cats you know have kittens,
in threes and fours and fives
- and there were seven little bodies in the bag.

Sop home I comes in triumph,
with the bodies in the bag,
the bodies in a bag, ta-ra-ra-ra.

Now that's in the Digital Tradition already, and was written by Charles Hegarty (and I'd like to know something about him too.)
But the way I sing it is a bit different from the DT version, so here it is.

And don't anyone go taking it I think dead cats a trivial laughing matter. If the person posting the original message was genuine, cats dying and leaving kittens is a desperately sad thing, and I hope the kittens pull through.

And if was some cynical bastard having a bit of fun, he or she isn't worth the effort of insulting. But even if that case it happens all too often, and there's been some good advice in here.

As for songs babies being born - there's always the Cruel Mother in its various versions. But I'm finding it hard to think of any songs about birth which aren't tragic, apart from Christmas carols. (Lots of songs ending up with a "nine-months -later" verse, but that's not really what I think Art was fishing for.)