Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats

Subject: Lyr Add: THE PUSSY CAT SONG (NYOW! NYOT NYOW!)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 08 Feb 16 - 07:34 AM

You can hear this at YouTube.


THE PUSSY CAT SONG (NYOW! NYOT NYOW!)
Words and music by Dick Manning
As recorded by Patty Andrews and Bob Crosby, 1948.

This is a story 'bout a guy who came home late one night.
(Must 'a' been two or three a.m., some'n' like that.)
"Gotta get me some sleep," he yawned (yawn) as he turned out the light.
(Must 'a' been too tired to do any readin'.)
Whether he dreamed what happened, or if he heard it, he wouldn't bet,
But he swears it sounded like two cats (p-r-r, p-r-r) singing a duet.

Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
We will sing a little tune.
Nyot nyow.
Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
We will serenade the moon.
Nyot nyow.
When the folks got home tonight at twelve or thereabout,
They locked the door and they forgot to put me yout.
Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
Nyow? Nyot nyow.

Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
This is me, your boyfriend, Tom.
Nyot nyow.
Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
This is Tom, the atom bomb!
Nyot nyow.
I assure you I'd come yout if only I knew how.
They tell me that you really are the cat's meow.
Come yout, come yout, come yout, my pretty kitten.
Nyow? [Miscellaneous cat sounds.] Yes, nyow.


[Also recorded by Jo Stafford and Gordon Macrae.]

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Thompson
Date: 06 Feb 16 - 04:41 AM

British music hall song - Don't Do That to the Poor Puss Cat

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: keberoxu
Date: 05 Feb 16 - 02:26 PM

Talking of the Prairie Home Companion:

one evening the guest was Willie Nelson. With Garrison Keillor, he did a parody of his Julio Iglesias duet.

To all the cats I've known before
Who wanted to come in my door
And then they turned about
And wanted to go out
So they could come back in some more

To all the cats who shed their hair
And tripped me coming down the stairs
And left a you-know-what
upon the ? ? rug
And scratched up all my easy chairs....

Subject: Lyr Add: THE GHOST (1799)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 04 Feb 16 - 05:35 PM

A 12-line excerpt from this appears in a "broadside" at The Bodleian Library, Oxford as the caption to an engraving, broken into 4-line stanzas like a ballad. However, I found the original in two journals—The European Magazine, and London Review, Volume 35 (London: J. Sewell, March, 1799), page 189; and The Scots Magazine, Volume 61 (Edinburgh: James Watson, May, 1799), page 329—where it appears as a poem, not a song:


THE GHOST
A tale.

Would you your tender offspring rear
With minds well form'd, devoid of fear,
Ne'er let the nurse with idle tale
Of Ghost their infant ears assail,
Or Bug-a-boo! Or Chimney-sweep!
To terrify them into sleep.
Thus, when matur'd by rip'ning age,
And brought upon the world's great stage,
No midnight horrors vex the soul
Of howling dog, or hooting owl!
But on they move, with manly tread,
Across the mansions of the dead;
Or pass the ruin'd tower, where
Tradition says 'Goblins appear.
Not so the hapless wight, whose mind
Is in the nursery confin'd,
Who bears about him, as a curse,
The strong impressions made by Nurse;
He sees the flaming cinder fly
From out the grate, then with a sigh
Exclaims, "A coffin—I shall die!
And see, a winding sheet does glide
Adown the candle's gutt'ring side!"
Thus does conceit o'er sense prevail,
Which brings me to the following tale:

Near fam'd St Giles' tow'ring fane,
In the close windings of a lane,
And, snug retreat from public eye!
In the next story to the sky,
Two Taylors lodg'd in the same bed,
One Mayo nam'd—the other Ned:
One winter evening as they sat
With ale and pipe in friendly chat,
Quoth Mayo, "Ned, you are my friend,
Upon whose faith I can depend;
Know, then, my means are in such plight,
I must be off before 'tis light;
To sea my course I mean to shape,
But let not this your lips escape,
And now and then I'll write you, Ned,
If not, you may suppose me dead."
Th' astonished taylor sees his friend
Quick down the garret stairs descend,
And hears these awful words with dread,
"Farewell—I'm yours, alive or dead!"—
"And yet, why need I feel alarm?
I never did poor Mayo harm,"
Says Ned; "and, should his ghost appear,
I'll speak to it; why should I fear?"

'Twas at that drear and awful hour
When Ghosts and Goblins shew their power,
The clock struck one, when thoughtful Ned
Lay restless tumbling in his bed.
"Who knows (quoth he) poor Mayo's doom?
He may be in a wat'ry tomb,
Or 'midst the horrors of a wreck,
Or wounded bleeding on the deck.
Alas! Why did he tempt the main?
I ne'er shall see my friend again!"
At this he hears a mournful sound
Proceeding as from under ground,
Repeat with hollow voice and slow
These words—"Mayo, mayo, mayo!"
With hair erect, and staring eyes,
Poor trembling Ned, in wild surprize,
The bed-clothes o'er him nimbly drew;
Then bawls, "In God's name, who are you?
If you're my late much valu'd friend
And met with an untimely end,
You know I never did you harm.
Then why my spirits thus alarm?
If to discover hidden treasure,
I trembling wait your awful leisure!
Or be your business what it may,
I follow—pray you lead the way;
And as your form you will not show,
Pray let me hear your voice!"—"Mayo!"
In mournful sounds he hears once more,
And thinks them near his garret door;
Then gently stepping from his bed,
And peeping round, o'erwhelm'd with dread!
Behind the door, low couch'd he spies
A huge black cat, with saucer eyes!
And now his heart no longer quails
When thus Grimalkin he assails:
"What devil put it in thy head
To take thy station near my bed?
I'll give thee something in a trice,
Not quite so good as catching mice!
Something not quite so sweet as amber!"
Then thrusts him in the Pot de Chambre;
Saying, "You've been a Ghost to me.
You're therefore laid in the Red Sea!"

Subject: Lyr Add: BATCHELOR SNIP, THE CAT CATCHER
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 04 Feb 16 - 08:02 AM

From a broadside at The Bodleian Library, Oxford:


BATCHELOR SNIP, THE CAT CATCHER

Old Batchelor Snip he lived in a cot
And a gardener by profession.
A lover he was to his pipe and his pot
And his name I don't choose for to mention.

Lol de rol la, my story, I say,
My story is as true as the light of the day.

Old Sall Neverwed lived the very next door
In a house that was neatly thatched, sir.
Her age I am sure was nearly four score
And she kept a dollop of cats, sir.

These cats in the gardener's ground they would go.
It is as true as my story that passes.
They'd fight and they'd tear, molrow, & they'd swear,
My eye! And they'd smash all his glasses.

Now the gardener swore that their lives was no more
If in a trap he could catch them behind, sir.
He put things in the ground but the cats trod 'em down
And drove him most out of his mind, sir.

Mr. Tommy one night on the water butt sat
And he sat there a while with content, sir,
Till out came Marm Tib and a molrow she give
And down in the garden they went, sir.

Then strait down the garden they each took their way.
Like two lovers they walked side by side, sir,
Till a trap caught by their tails then quite taught.
Molrow and blue murder they cried, sir.

Now they lugg'd and they tugg'd till off come their tails.
They came off very close to their rump, sir.
You'd have laughed to have seen this king and queen
How they wriggled and waggled their stump, sir.

Now you rambling cats, beware of these traps
Or you will meet with a shocking disaster,
For like Tibby and Tom you'll be hopping along
With no tail for to cover your stern, sir.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE TEA-TABLE TABBY TOM'S TRAGIC TALE
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 01 Feb 16 - 08:13 PM

From a broadside at The Bodleian Library, Oxford:

THE TEA-TABLE TABBY TOM'S TRAGIC TALE:
Being a companion to that excellent song of "The Wig, the Hat, and the Cane."
To the tune of "Away with Those Queer Married Fellows," in the "Gay Deceivers" by Mr. Bannister.

One eve, as an old maiden lady,
At table, at tea-time, she sat.
On her right was her pussy, call'd Sadi;
On her left was her Tabby Tom-cat.
She anxious expected her lover
To tea, and have scandalous chat.
He brought with him his little dog Rover,
Who wasn't too fond of a cat.

That he might not lose sight of his fair,
Her humpy friend opposite sat.
Little Rover slunk under the chair,
For fear of the Tabby Tom-cat.
Nine cups drank the humpy-back lover.
He thought he had long enough sat,
So the crumbs of the table got Rover;
The milk got the Tabby Tom-cat.

Poor Sadi no longer could bear it.
To quarrel he set about pat.
The milk he thought then he should share it
Along with the Tabby Tom-cat.
The cats they both swore a deep bass.
Little Rover growl'd deeper than that,
Till, at last, a good scratch on the face
He receiv'd from the Tabby Tom-cat.

In the fight, the tea-table turn'd over,
And the things on the floor they fell flat.
The groats were spilt over the lover,
The urn on the Tabby Tom-cat.
This fight made a great consternation.
The lovers got both in a pet,
And a final and sad separation
Was caus'd by the Tabby Tom-cat.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE HAIRY BUCK CAT
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 01 Feb 16 - 07:50 PM

From a broadside at the Bodleian Library, Oxford:

(There is a similar version here.)


THE HAIRY BUCK CAT

My name it is Bill; I once kept a mill
Near the town of Clonmell, I will never deny.
I had a buck cat; 'twas heavy and fat.
He would kill a rat at the wink of an eye.
He was hairy and strong; his whiskers was long.
This nation I'd travel without any hat
To get satisfaction out of the damn'd rascal
Who strangled my grandmother's hairy buck cat.

To tell you in plain, my cat he was tame.
A saucer of cream he would lap every day,
And then in the evening, to keep him from screeching,
A ha'porth of bread and a small cup of tea.
My cat he was wise; he'd go off in disguise
To hunt for some mice or a monstrous rat,
But a neighbour called Tom I suspect very strong
For killing my grandmother's hairy buck cat.

Indeed, Billy Dillon, you are an old villain
For to accuse me of killing your buck,
But by all the she-goats from Kerry to Moat,
I'll have satisfaction before I am shuck.
By this, that, and t'other, and Belzebub's mother,
And Cain's eldest brother, and his grandfather's hat;
By Lord Norbury's wig, and the price of my pig,
I never had a hand in the death of your cat.

'Twas from Dolly's bray my cat went astray
On that mem'rable day, the 12th of July.
Being in want of some meat, the truth for to state,
He went hunting some rats at a village hard by.
They did him surround, left him dead on the ground,
With his fine Orange sash and Cromwellian hat.
My curse on the robber, be he drunk or sober,
That strangled my grandmother's hairy buck cat.

By the red-shirted knave—Garibaldi, I mean—
And the King of Sardinia, may he have the gout.
May an African bug build a nest in his lug.
With the tic-doloreux, may his grinders fall out.
By every old trooper, and big-bellied souper
That preaches for bacon—oh, don't they get fat?—
By King Bill's dirty breeches, that both stinks and itches,
I never had a hand in the death of your cat.

By the great Bog of Allen, and big river Shannon,
And the heather that grows on the high hill of Howth;
By Sarsfield the brave, that lies in his grave,
And the sweet little razor that cut Castlereaght's throat;
By cursed Martin Luther, and Old Nick his tutor,
And Cromwell the villain, who thousands lay flat;
By Queen Anne's petticoat, and that a big oath,
I never had a hand in the death of your cat.

Indeed, Tommy Kelly, you are a fine fellow.
You may curse and swear till you're black in the pate.
The truth I must tell, you know it right well.
Your creed you would sell for a lump of fat meat.
By the Peltus M'Cue, and the great Pandeen Rue,
I'll warm your hide with the tail of a rat.
Regardless of moans, I'll break all your bones
For killing my grandmother's hairy buck cat.

By Wellington's nose, and the bellows that blows
The fire where old Harry and Cranmer doth sit,
In the regions, I mean, where tyrants doth reign
In Lucifer's region with old Billy Pitt;
By old Bishop Knox, John Calvin and Fox,
And the cabbage-bred pdp, Geo. Adair and his hat;
By the virgin Queen Bess, and the priest-hunting mess,
I don't care a ---- for you or your cat.

A somewhat different version, from a broadside at the National Library of Scotland:

BUCK CAT

My name it is Bill, and I once kept a mill
Near the town of Clonmell, I will never deny.
I had a Buck Cat that was hairy and fat,
And would worry a rat in the wink of an eye.
He was heavy and strong; his whiskers were long.
This Nation I'd travel without any hat
To get satisfaction out of the vile rascal
That strangled my grandmother's hairy Buck Cat.

It is from Dollybray, my cat went astray,
On that memorable day, the 12th of July,
Where he went to ensnare—the truth I declare—
Some harmless rats that were living close by.
When he came to the ground, his match there he found.
They did him surround, and paid him for his chat.
I left him in his gore and I saw him no more,
But the loss I deplore of my beautiful Cat.

Indeed, Billy Dillon. you are a great villain,
For to accuse me sure of killing your Buck.
By all the she-goats from Kerry to Moat,
I will have satisfaction before I am shook.
You sorely ill used me, and likewise abused me.
Indeed such an action I would scorn as that.
Believe me, dear neighbours, he's done his endevours
To take my character for killing his Cat.

By the eternal wars, and by all the Jack Tars,
In England, Ireland, and Scotland also;
By Toby the Pig, and Lord Norberry's wig,
I ne'er done the deed which you very well know.
By Napoleon the brave, who lies in his grave,
And by Sarsfield who gave all his foes tit for tat;
By Lepocorn Russell, and Queen Anne's dirty bustle,
I ne'er had a hand in the death of your Cat.

By King Harry the brute, who polluted the truth,
And Cranmer to boot, the inventor of lies;
By Calvin and Knox, and the infamous Fox,
That made Protestant Saints before ever they died;
By Neddy the get, the Apostolic pet,
And his own sister Bet, who had many a brat;
By the vile Reformation that caused desolation,
I ne'er had a hand in the death of your Cat.

By Jimmy O'Brien, who hung scores in his time—
To swear by the same now indeed I'm not loath;
By old Billy Pitt, to swear, I'm not fit;
By Lord Castlereagh who cut his own throat;
By Martin and Luther, and old Nick his tutor,
Or Cromwell the villain who thousands laid flat;
By Harry and Bess, and the whole of the rest,
I ne'er had a hand in the death of your Cat.

By the Four Courts of Dublin, and Nelson's great pillow,
By all the Jackasses, that is a big oath;
By all the John Bulls that smashed many skulls
On Waterloo plains where the battle was fought;
By Brian the brave that beat all the Danes,
Shoved them into the sea just like a dead rat;
By "Buckshot" the knave, who would us enslave,
I ne'er had a hand in the death of your Cat.

I gave satisfaction about the transaction.
I vow and declare the truth I did speak.
Bill won't believe me, which sorely does grieve me.
My curse on his Cat both early and late.
By the bellows of h—ll, and Peg Trentham's bell,
Or Usker's big flail shat leveled them flat;
By King Bill's dirty breeches that stinks and itches,
I never had a hand in the death of your Cat.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: FreddyHeadey
Date: 01 Feb 16 - 02:06 PM

"I'm Going to Drown My Cat"

Arthur Marshall says "... and I stole Teddy Bear's Rave-up and Drown my Cat from Tony Light, and have no idea who wrote them ..." on his notes for his
"Ass" CD

You can hear it (till ~end Feb2016) here on a borrowed squeezebox
bollingtonfolkclub/sound-clips > 29/01/2016 audio clips

Subject: Lyr Add: THE IDENTICAL CAT
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 31 Jan 16 - 08:05 PM

From a broadside in the Bodleian collection, between 1819 and 1844:


THE IDENTICAL CAT.

I'll try my endeavours to please you all pat,
When I tell you about a curious cat—
Talk about one that Whittington had,
To compare it with this, you'd be worser than mad.
She'd go in and kill, in not many hours,
About such a thing as a million of rats.
You may think it a lie—it's a fact, by the powers,
So I mean for to call her the queen of the cats.
Rum ti, &c.

'Twas my grandfather's father's great-grandmother rear'd it—
Her cat it had kittens, a thousand or more—
She drowned the lot, only this one she spar'd it,
And while ever she kept it, she never was poor.
When a kitten 'twould turn to, and do all the washing,
Empty the slops, do the ironing pat,
And she'd darn all the family's old worsted stockings,
And this is the very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

This cat has been living near five hundred years,
And to see her there's money been paid in galore.
If I keep her six weeks, that will drown all my cares,
For I think I shall make twenty thousand or more.
I s'pose you remember that very odd story
About puss in boots, when the giant turn'd rat—
She caught him, and kill'd him, she was in her glory,
And this is the very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

She can dance out-and-out; besides, she can smoke.
I'm sure there's no other one can her excel.
She plays 'Tullochgorum,' also 'Johnny Cope,'
Upon the piano exceedingly well.
I dare say you never see her go singing,
To notice how fine she goes round with her hat—
I'm sure she can set all the concert rooms ringing,
And this is the very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

You've heard of Dame Trot and her comical cat,
And I dare say you all thought that never was true,
And not the least doubt but you'd call me a flat,
If I told you more wonders that this one could do.
T'other night she went to a professional benefit,
Her singing went down with the greatest eclat,
And six people died while laughing at her they sat—
And this is the very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

I'm going to unfathom a regular secret.
Nobody knows it but puss and myself—
And now to disclose it, it is no use to keep it,
For I find that with it I can't make any pelf.
What fools folks must be to think that Jack Thingame,
Escap'd out of quod, as in irons he sat,
'Till a nail, and a file, and things come down the chimney,
Sent down by this very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

Her artfulness it is beyond competition.
She caught of large rats, let me see, twenty score,
And she sav'd their lives only on one condition:
That in Newgate they'd gnaw a large hole in each door.
They set to a-gnawing, and soon got 'em shap'd,
Large enough to let any man out that warn't fat—
And that's just the way that Jack Sheppard escap'd,
And 'twas all through this very identical cat.
Rum ti, &c.

Now I've made up my mind, when I've made enough money,
To take her to Dover, and then off to France,
Where I know she'll cut out either Grisi or Honey,
For I mean her to sing as well as to dance.
I've not told you all that I know of this animal,
But some other night I will tell you more pat,
Tales that will run through your veins just like calomel,
Concerning this very identical cat.
Ri tum, &c.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Steve Shaw
Date: 30 Jan 16 - 09:07 PM

What about that old Glenn Miller one:

"Pardon me boy, is that the cat who chewed your new shoes...?"

Subject: Lyr Add: THE TOM CAT
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 30 Jan 16 - 08:14 PM

From Ashburner's New Vocal and Poetic Repository (Ulverston: George Ashburner, 1807), page 90:


THE TOM CAT.
[or Somebody, Nobody, Everybody and Anybody]

Well, here I am to tell,
Because it is my fancy,
I lov'd a pretty girl,
And some folks call'd her Nancy.
Now Nance, I thought, loved me,
Or else I dreamt or read so:
And all because, d'ye see,
That somebody had said so.
La ral, la ral la, &c.

'Twas but t'other night
I call'd, a little mellow,
When out she pop'd the light,
And down stairs run a fellow.
Says I, "Pray who's been here?"
When she, who thought me boozy,
Cried, "Nobody, my dear,
Only Tom, our pussy."
La ral, la ral la, &c.

"O curse that Tom!" says I,
"If he comes here, a mousing.
My sweetest Nance, good-bye.
I hate such damn'd carousing."
"But we shall wed,: says she,
"And every body cries so."
Says I, "That ne'er can be.
Since every body lies so."
La ral, la ral la, &c.

So any body now
May take my charming Nancy;
Because, d'ye see, as how
She does not suit my fancy.
That Tom, that damn'd Tom cat,
Should Nance in marriage catch me,
Strange things they might be at,
And, now and then might scratch me.
La ral, la ral la, &c.

Subject: Lyr Add: A TALE OF A CAT'S HEAD
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Jan 16 - 11:36 PM

From Comic Songs by Thomas Hudson (London: Gold and Walton, 1818), page 23:


A TALE OF A CAT'S HEAD.

The Widow Tomkins had a back room on the second floor.
Her name was on a neat brass plate on one side of the door.
Many ladies rich in pride were circumstances worse in,
For she was independent—all by going out a-nursing.

Companion she had only one, a beautiful Tom Cat,
Who was a famous mouser and a devil for a rat.
His colour was a tabby, and his skin as soft as silk,
And she would lap him every day the while he lapp'd his milk.

The Widow Tomkins kept herself aloof from every neighbour,
Her pleasure all consisting in assisting at a labour.
One day she was disturb'd from sleep with double rat, tat, tat,
And she went in such a hurry that she quite forgot her cat.

Poor Tom! as soon as day-light came, walk'd up and down the floor,
And heard the dog's meat woman cry cat's meat at the door;
And when he heard the well known cry, to mew he did begin,
In vain, for he could not get out and she could not get in.

Confined to this one single room, he could not roam the house.
He wanted a companion, if it only was a mouse.
He watch'd a hole in vain, for no mouse came his hopes to crown.
Either he was too much up, or the mouse was too much down.

With hunger he got fairly wild, tho' formerly so tame.
Another day pass'd slowly by—another just the same.
With hunger he so hungry was, it did so strong assail,
That altho' very loath he was oblig'd to eat his tail.

This whetted quite his appetite, and tho' the stump was sore,
The next day he was tempted (sad!) to eat a little more!
To make his life the longer then he made his body shorter,
And one after the other 'gad he eat each hinder quarter.

Hunger is a spur which has such long and pointed rowels,
It spur'd him on next day, and next to gobble all his bowels.
He walk'd about on two fore legs, alas! without beholders.
Still more and more by hunger press'd, he din'd on both his shoulders.

Next day he found (the cannibal!) to eating more a check,
Altho' he tried and did reach all he could reach of his neck;
But as he could not bite his ear, all mournfully he cried,
Towards the door he turn'd his eyes, cock'd up his nose, and died!

The Widow did at last return, and oh! how she did stare.
She guess'd the tale as soon as she saw Tom's head lying there.
With grief sincerely heartfelt, as she own'd his fate a hard 'un,
She buried it beneath an apple tree, just down her garden.

Now mark what strange effects from little causes will appear:
The fruit of this said tree was changed, and strangely too next year.
The neighbours say ('tis truth, for they're all folks who go to chapels),
This cat's head was the sole first cause of all the cat's-head apples.

Subject: Lyr Add: OUR OLD TOM CAT
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Jan 16 - 11:09 PM

From Jeremy Jollyboy Songster by Sol Smith Russell (New York: Robert M. De Witt, 1876), page 60:


OUR OLD TOM CAT.
Air:—Ivy Green.

A downy old cove is our old Tom cat,
Just turned of thirty years old.
He eats all the lean and leaves all the fat,
And won't touch his meals if they're cold.
His food must be crumbled and not decayed,
To pleasure his dainty whim,
And a turkey bone that never was touched,
Makes a jolly blow out for him.

CHORUS: Creeping over the tiles so pat,
And crying "Mew," does our old Tom cat.

Old joints have fled and the bones decayed,
And the dishes have broken been,
But old Tom still follows the kitchen maid,
And slyly licks up all the cream;
And our old Tom cat in his lonely days
Will joyfully think of the past,
And a big leg of mutton that never was touched
Will be food for my Tommy at last.

Fast he flies tho' he has no wings,
And a sly old soldier is he.
Close under the window "Mew" he sings,
"Ain't you coming out to-night, love?" says he.
Then slyly he creepeth the gutters all round,
And his old tail he joyously waves,
As his lady love from a garret he spies
Then he sings her his amorous staves.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD WOMAN AND HER CATS
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Jan 16 - 10:39 PM

From Comic Songs by Thomas Hudson (London: Gold and Walton, 1818), page 3:


THE OLD WOMAN AND HER CATS.

A very old woman once liv'd by herself,
    In a garret so monstrously high,
Her cupboard was lined, well stored was each shelf,
And in a sly pocket was plenty of pelf,
    To get a drop of liquor when dry.
But the rats and the mice through the holes,
Came into the cupboard in shoals,
So free exercising their gums,
On cheese-parings, candle-ends, and crumbs;
And though it a strange thing may seem,
They wash'd their tails in the cream,
Which was shocking bad manners you'll say:
    Alas, and alack-a-day!
    A curious moral I make,
    Listen, great and small!
    Better have some crumbs for the mice to take,
    Than to have no crumbs at all.

Plagued out of her life, ah, what could she do?
    She collected of cats fifteen,
And went to bed with them all in her view;
There was black, white, and tabby, and tortoiseshell, too,
    With their gooseberry eyes so green.
But the candle was scarcely out,
They made such a confounded rout,
Seizing the victuals, and tearing,
Clawing, and spitting, and swearing,
Broke cups, plates, and dishes, all her store,
Lapp'd the cream up, and mollrow'd for more,
Which was shocking bad manners you'll say:
    Alas and alack a-day,
    A curious moral I make, &c. &c.

They made such a noise, she awoke with affright,
    Not dreaming the cause of the din,
Groped out her tinder-box, and then struck a light,
And the very first object that came in her sight,
    Was—her bottle broke, and spilt all her gin.
She look'd in the cupboard in despair,
But the devil of any thing was there;
Except plates and dishes, broken small,
Cups, saucers, and cream jug, and all;
Each cat look'd as savage as a cur,
As if he could easy swallow her,
Which was shocking bad manners you'll say,
So the poor old woman ran away.
    A curious moral I make,
    Listen great and small,
    Better have some crumbs for the mice to take,
    Than to have no crumbs at all.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Tattie Bogle
Date: 28 Jan 16 - 03:36 AM

Slightly thread drifting but there's a part-parody of "Sam the Skull" which goes "Eh'm a doag, eh'm a doag, eh'm a Dundee doag, that's a D O A G, doag" written by Dundonian Steve Inglis (sadly no longer with us.)

Subject: Lyr Add: NO HAIRBALLS IN HEAVEN
From: Charley Noble
Date: 25 Jan 16 - 03:13 PM

Here's another collaborative Mudcat thread song from way back when:


Initial verse and chorus by Charlie Ipcar © 1982
Traditional Tune: Lightning Express

No Hairballs in Heaven

Chorus:

There'll be no hairballs in Heaven,
No weariness sorrow or pain,
No claws that are bleeding and broken,
No nights left out in the rain.

We'll be in that beautiful jungle,
With birdies to chase through the leaves,
And mice will be there in abundance,
We'll snatch them whenever we please;
There'll be no Pit Bulls in Heaven,
No German Shepherds, nor Chows,
And all will be tuna and salmon,
And cream drawn fresh from the cow.(CHO)

We'll sleep on the softest of pillows,
With Catnip to colour our dreams,
And no one will dare to awake us,
Until we have hatched all our schemes
There'll be no thrown boots in Heaven,
When up on the rooftops we sing
And the door we go out, when it opens
Will always lead out into Spring. (MMario)

The toys will always be fun ones
That scurry and scamper and hide,
With fur we can sink all our claws in,
And good things to eat inside.
When we sharpen our claws on the sofa,
Nobody cares if we shred and tear,
And when WE want to get some attention
A broad lap will always be there. (Lin in KS)

The elm trees grow tall up in Heaven
Just right for a hunter to lie
Stretched out on a branch with his eyes shut
In that home between green grass and sky
With the smells of the earth in his nostrils
And the feel of the bark 'neath his feet,
And the screams and the shrieks of the songbirds
In his ears, making music so sweet. (Lin in KS)

The ladies all will be willing,
The toms will all be debonair,
The kittens will stay safe with Mother
Until they no longer need care.
There'll be no needles in Heaven,
No dogs, no fear, no cars--
Just plenty of catnaps and grooming
And singalongs under the stars. (Lin in KS)

We'll never get bumped off the pillows
Where cat hair galore we can shed
Big Mama will never roll over
Disturbing our nest by her head (Mag)
She'll let us go out at All Hallow's
(She's nervous because we're all black)
We'll cruise with the kids scamming candy
And collect little mice in our sack (Mag)

She'll put back the cat door she took out
Disgusted with what we brought home
Our friends will drop through to visit
Even if we're out on a roam.(Mag)

Though no cat can make it to Heaven
Till all of her nine lives are done,
When you've used your sixth or seventh,
Your Cat Heaven dreams have begun.
There we chase butterflies through the cloud fields,
And claw the celestial walls,
For cats always seek out the highest perch,
And Heaven's the loftiest of all! (Genie)

Charlie Ipcar

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 28 Mar 11 - 05:37 PM

Via Robin Hall & Jimmie MacGregor, a song NOT to warm the hearts of ailurophiles:

"The Craw Killed The Pussie-o"

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 25 Nov 09 - 11:30 AM

For anyone who's ever had to say goodbye to a beloved moggy:

Cat Lullaby - a song of goodbye

Subject: Lyr Add: ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT (Colville
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 29 Apr 09 - 07:59 AM

This is a poem, not a song.

From Poems and Songs on Home and Abroad by Elizabeth Colville (Kilmarnock [Scotland]: Dunlop & Drennan, 1905):


ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT.
Elizabeth Colville

My wee bit cat, my bonnie cat,
That purring by the fire sat,
With her blinking, half-closed e'e,
And wha would think that she could see?
Her favourite place the chimney cheek,
The cleanest place that she could seek;
And when she wasna purring there,
The fireside seemed unco bare.

The bairnies a' she kent sae weel,
And oft her paws would round them steal,
For since she was a wee bit kitten
She saved them a' frae many a licking.
Nae other cat would tak' the pains
To play so kindly wi' the weans;
No other cat, though e'er so bonnie,
Purrs so sweet when I wait on Johnnie.

For when I was my leefu' lane,
Waiting on Johnnie coming hame,
She coiled hersel' into a clew
And purred away while time it flew;
For Johnnie liked a social dram,
And oft to Tibbie's he would gang,
To hear the news, as he would say,
And Duncan Glen, the fiddler, play.

Wi' ilka crack and ilka sang
He didna think the night was lang,
And when we heard him on the stair
Our pussy was the foremost there.
But noo she's deid, our bonnie puss,
And sair we miss her in the hoose,
For never mair we'll see the cat
That purring by the fire sat.

Subject: Lyr Add: RAMBLING MOGGY
From: Tattie Bogle
Date: 07 Mar 09 - 07:09 PM

Don't forget the series of 3 CDs "Guide Cats for the Blind" featuring songs and readings by various famous personages, and with the opportunity to contribute to a very worthwhile cause:

http://www.bcab.org.uk/guide-cats.html




And also, with apologies to one of my very favourite songwriters:

RAMBLING MOGGY                        Based on "Rambling Boy" by Tom Paxton


She was a tabby with big green eyes,
She stuck with me 'cos I treated her nice,
Whatever the weather, out she would go,
To ramble round in the rain and snow.

Chorus
So here's to you, my rambling moggy,
Why did you always come in so soggy,
When you'd been rolling in that boggy,
Oh why oh why, miaow, miaow.

On the edge of town, she chanced to stray,
She thought she'd hunt a rat one day,
But that rat had eaten warfarin,
So moggy's blood got far too thin.

Chorus

Late one night, off went my moggy,
The weather it was cold and foggy,
She got the bleeds and she got them bad,
They took the only moggy I had.

Chorus

She left me here to ponder on,
Why my rambling moggy is dead and gone,
If when cats die, they go somewhere,
I'll bet you a Whiskas she's miaowing there.


Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow,
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow,
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow.


(Classical buffs will instantly recognise the last 3 lines as being part of the "Cat Duet" by Rossini!)

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: vlmagee
Date: 07 Mar 09 - 06:47 PM

I haven't checked the thread to see what songs are listed, but Cindy Mangsen released an entire CD of cat songs in November, 2005 (long after this thread was started). Called Cat Tales: Songs of the Feline Persuasion, the CD includes both covers and new original songs. Perhaps the standout track is her original song Rudy's Big Adventure, the true story of the cat who got his head stuck in a garbage disposal and lived to meow about it. (It's a great song, but not easy to sing). Needless-to-say, husband Steve Gillette accompanies her on the album. And her own cat, Alice, graces the cover.

You can listen to clips of the songs here and find lyrics to the songs here

Subject: Lyr Add: SIX FOOT TOM
From: Joe_F
Date: 06 Mar 09 - 09:35 PM

Six Foot Tom
by Columbine

Now you've stowed your tack and taters for a sailor's feast to cater
Take a good exterminator when across the sea you rove
For your ship's as good as beaten if your food has all been eaten
And all I ask is shore leave and a place beside the stove

Chorus:
For starvation stalks the sea, but her minions run from me
I find them very tasty, and their teeth and claws don't matter
With more stripes than you'd survive, and three times as many wives
With four in the front and two in the back, I'm Six Foot Tom the ratter!

I don't need gold or copper, just a juicy rat for supper
I don't wear your silly clothing, I don't care for rum or corn
But if you chance to catch a fish, drop the head into my dish
And you've bought yourself a bunkmate when we go around the Horn!

(Chorus)

Those pampered Persian pretties can be very friendly kitties
In Siam the swelt'ring summer's not the only thing that's hot
The cool Norwegian forest's hosted many a feline chorus
And somewhere in Argentina there's a six-foot ocelot

(Chorus)

So make the right decision to protect your ship's provisions
And I'll bring you luck a-plenty, could a captain ask for more?
When you rove with Tom the Ratter soon your fortunes will grow fatter
Just ask any of the tabbies that I've dallied with ashore

(Chorus)

http://launch.groups.yahoo.com/group/NE_ChanteySings/files/Lyrics%20%26%20Tunes/

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Anne Lister
Date: 06 Mar 09 - 06:57 PM

I can offer "The Small Black Cat" on my "Waiting for the Hero" album and there's a lovely cat song by Grant Baynham which I think is just called "The Cat Song".

Anne

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: SINSULL
Date: 06 Mar 09 - 04:28 PM

Poor Kitty Popcorn - a Civil War tearjerker.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: breezy
Date: 06 Mar 09 - 03:35 PM

'Its a cats life' by Chris Flegg

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: GUEST,joen
Date: 06 Mar 09 - 08:14 AM

what about "love cats" from the cure??

a song i know from the 70'ties, always good fun to hear again

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: SuzyQ
Date: 15 Dec 08 - 12:31 AM

Hi, All!
Cat songs--yes! There is this way wonderful overlap between science fiction fandom and cat love. I've enjoyed a collection called "Bedlam Cats" for many years now. Some of the songs in this collection have been mentioned above. A copy is available on Amazon:

"Bedlam Cats - A Collection of Songs About Our Favorite Felines
Jane A. Robinson (Performer), Cynthia McQuillan (Performer), Various Artists (Performer)

Product Description
This is a collection of fast and funny songs about cats and the people that they own. The songs are folk in sound and feature the clever parody details the culinary perils faced by cat owners. Some of the songs have been featured on the Dr. Demento's syndicated radio. It should be noted that this is a cheerful collection and that no cats are harmed in any of the songs. This is a MUST have for all cat lovers. 1. Catbox Blues * 2. Bella Chow 3. Kitty Cat "Z" 4. Lap Top Unit 5. Cats Are Not Graceful 6. A Familiar Beast 7. Milk to Feed The Cat 8. Autumn Cats 9. Kitten's Blood 10. When Kittens Call 11. Bedlam Cats 12. Flea Enterprise 13. Night Mewsic 14. Cats 15. Skitter Skat Cat 16. Black Cat Blues 17. Only Human 18. "The Cat Who Warps By Herself" 19. Cats In The Dawn 20. "Top Cat" Rap."
My fave in this collection is a song sung by a man and a woman in which the chorus is "I love cats!"

Leslie Fish sings, "I Believe the Cats are Taking Over" on her "It's Sister Jenny's Turn to Throw the Bomb " tape.
Carly Simon and her sister sing a lovely "Owl and the Pussycat" on their vintage album "Lobster Quadrille," and there's a version just as charming sung by a couple of men at Bayfilk I (a tape I've got in my I-Tunes now.) Dr. Jane Robinson (of "Overflowing Catbox Blues" fame) also sings "Muscles of the KittyCat" on her tape "Science Notes".

On one of her great filk tapes Roberta Rogow sings her "Cat Woman's Song." And Julia Ecklar's "Golden eyes" about a pair of were-cats is gorgeous. it's on her "Horsetamer's Daughter" tape.
I love cats, but I have to admit I LOVE Jane Hobson's "Throw Your Cat Away" song:-)

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 14 Dec 08 - 11:50 PM

Twelve Days Of Christmas - Feline version

Subject: Lyr Add: DOG HAIKU
From: Genie
Date: 25 Jun 02 - 10:19 AM

Even the dog pays due tribute to the cat:

Dog Haiku
 (Anon.)

 I love my master;
 Thus I perfume myself with
 This long-rotten squirrel.

 I lie belly-up
 In the sunshine, happier than
 You ever will be.

 Today I sniffed
 Many dog behinds—I celebrate
 By kissing your face.

 I sound the alarm!
 "Paper boy—come to kill us all—
 Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!"

 I sound the alarm!
 "Garbage man—come to kill us all—
 Look! Look! Look! Look! Look!"

 I lift my leg and
 Whiz on each bush.  Hello, Spot—
 Sniff this and weep.

 How do I love thee?
 The ways are numberless as
 My hairs on the rug.

 My human is home!
 I am so ecstatic I have
 Made a puddle.

 I hate my choke chain!
 "Look, world, they strangle me!  Ack
 Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack!"

 Sleeping here, my chin
 On your foot, no greater bliss—well,
 Maybe catching rats...

 Look in my eyes and
 Deny it.  No human could
 Love you as much I do.

 The cat is not all
 Bad. She fills the litter box
 With Tootsie Rolls.

 Dig under fence—why?
 Because it's there.  Because it's
 There.  Because it's there.

 I am your best friend,
 Now, always, and especially
 When you are eating.

 My owners' mood is
 Romantic. I lie near their
 Feet.  I fart a big one.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 01 Feb 02 - 11:50 PM

The Body In The Bag is about a cat. There's a link to an MP3 of it, too.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 25 Jan 02 - 11:29 PM

Joe, I'm a cat lover and I'm not at all vicious! (I even like dogs [but don't tell my cats].)

Sinsull, you are such a sucker! §;-)

Joe, to paraphrase,

You just haven't met the right cat yet!

Genie §;-)

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Dan Schatz
Date: 24 Jan 02 - 12:38 PM

Lois Lyman, who wrote "Wiscasset Schooners" and the "Going On" song (both recorded by Gordon Bok, among others) has an "Alpha Cat" song:

Oh I'm an alpha kitty, I am a alpha cat.

I'm fluffy and tough and I got the right stuff

'Cause I'm the alpha cat.

Unfortunately I do not believe it has yet been recorded.

Dan

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 24 Jan 02 - 02:32 AM

Hereare the words to "How Can I Keep From Purring?"

Genie

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Kenny B (inactive)
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 05:20 PM

PS additional verses in the DT in a previous thread re Sam the Skull other verses in the DT
;>}

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Kenny B (inactive)
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 05:08 PM

Here is another site About Moggies & in particular a well known Glesga cat called "Sam the Skull" a.s.b. Alistair McDonald

Sam the Skull & other Moggies -Click here
,;>}

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Jerry Rasmussen
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 04:34 PM

Not a Song, but a bumper sticker I saw the other day that simply said. "Cats: the other white meat."
A variant on the commercial, "Pork: the other white meat."
I love cats, but they need to be kept in their place.
Jerry

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 03:50 PM

also

Songs For Cats

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 20 Jan 02 - 03:47 PM

linking to related threadsSongs about Pets

Throw Away Your Cat

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 10 Dec 01 - 07:24 PM

Here is a new verse to "The Friendly Beasts." It's about the tabby cat's gift to the baby Jesus on the first Christmas and was inspired by an old legend.

Genie

Subject: Lyr Add: WHITE CAT AND BLACK CAT
From: GUEST,Genie
Date: 08 Oct 01 - 09:33 PM

I stumbled upon this (the song, not the cat) while perusing a Civl War Song site.
America Singing: Nineteenth-Century Song Sheets

WHITE CAT AND BLACK CAT (George S. Harris' card and job printing office. S. E. corner of 4th and vine Sts, Philad. [n. d.])

White cat, black cat, any cat at all,
When you catch de pussy cat don't you let her squall.

CHORUS.

When you catch de white cat, sabe him, oh, sabe him,
When you catch de black cat shabe him by de tail.
Tom cat's a gemmen an' he rambles in de park,
Bull dog de bow-wow, skeer him wid his bark.

Ole cat and kittens was playing on de bay,
Big cat get out ob de little cat's way.

When you catch, etc.

Tom cat, he bellows at de bristles on his back,
'Kase he see de pussy cat a peepin' thro' de crack.

When you catch, etc.

Green peach puddin, and a punkin pie,
De black cat kicked out de white cat's eye.

When you catch, etc.

Big cat, little cat, any sort o' cat,
Skit at te at, te skat, te it, at de skat.
When you catch, etc.

PRINTED AND SOLD WHOLESALE AT GEORGE S HARRIS' CARD & JOB PRINTING OFFICE, S. E. Cor. 4th & Vine Sts. Philad.

Stamped: 1490

COLLECTION: American Song Sheets

REPOSITORY: Rare Book and Special Collections Division, Library of Congress

DIGITAL ID: as114900

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: SINSULL
Date: 07 Oct 01 - 03:00 PM

Civil War Era "Poor Kitty Popcorn". A tear jerker.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: wysiwyg
Date: 07 Oct 01 - 09:57 AM

There are a couple HERE-- two under "C" for "Cat," and maybe others-- they are pretty strange though.

~S~

Subject: Lyr Add: OVERFLOWING CAT BOX BLUES (Jane Robinson)
From: Barbara
Date: 07 Oct 01 - 01:44 AM

I'm pretty sure I've posted this before, but just in case, here ya go again:

OVERFLOWING CAT BOX BLUES
(Jane Robinson PhD )
LA paleontologist.

First I must mention the lack of attention:
Here I am wasting away. (it's awful)
Why did you get me if you won't pet me
Seventeen hours a day? I ask you
What is this crap when I sit on your lap?
I expect a devoted masseuse;

I got those `Nobody loves me,
nobody feeds me
Overflowin' cat box blues.

Now I have grown gaunt from privation and want
But catfood I don't deign to take (how gauche)
But I could connive to completely revive
When you give-a me half of your steak (done rare)
I'll sit and I'll beg with my claws in your leg
Until you concede what I'm due;

CHORUS

Hey, I don't deserve this lousy door service:
I'm always on the wrong side. You know this
Prancing and yowling, moaning and growling
Works, but it hurts a cat's pride. So I'll just
Claw and I'll spray till the door rots away
And leaves me a hole to pass through;

CHORUS

Say, whenever I go for the bed or the sofa
You always shoo me away. (How rude!)
You say I get hair on the fabric of chairs
That offends your pristine derriere. Well now if
I can't repose where I want, I suppose, I'll
Throw up where you most like to snooze;

CHORUS

Well, you ought to know when a cat's got to go
That you owe her a spotless commode.
(Let's hear it)
Why should I squat on the same soggy spot
Right on top of three weeks worth of load?
( Now really!)
If I were a grouch I would piss on the couch,
But instead I have pissed in your shoe;

CHORUS

Since you have spayed me nobody's laid me -
I'm all neurotic and tense - it's true now -
Kneading and mewing is all that I'm doing
And not wooing toms on the fence. Don't think that
I've become bitter because I can't litter
No, but I've lost a few screws;

LAST CHORUS
I got those `Nobody loves me, nobody feeds me
Overflowin' cat box blues.
I got those `Nobody loves me, nobody feeds me,
Overflowin' cat box blues.

You can do it to a basic 12 bar blues pattern, and I always end it (last note, last chorus) on the flatted seventh rather than the tonic. Have fun.
Blessings,
Barbara

And Charlie, I found Nobody's Moggyland in the Database here when I was looking for something else one time...

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 07 Oct 01 - 12:50 AM

So that's how you spell "Meow" in Italiano!

Genie

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Kaleea
Date: 07 Oct 01 - 12:42 AM

Does no one remember the nursery song of "Puss 'N Boots"?

Pussy cat, Pussy cat, where have you been? I've been to London to visit the Queen. Pussy cat, Pussy cat, what did you there? I frightened a little mouse under her chair.

Not to mention Joanie Madden's "Cat's Meow".

However for the opera buffs at the cafe, there is the ever popular "Duetti Buffo di du Gatto" which I, of course, sing in the original Italian and accompanied by my ever faithful pianist, Thommasso Gatto. The lyrics are as follows:

Miau . . .

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: katlaughing
Date: 06 Oct 01 - 06:31 AM

My dog doesn't trust cat-haters.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 06 Oct 01 - 02:07 AM

A related link

Click here

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: Genie
Date: 04 Oct 01 - 02:17 AM

Yeah, Sue!
I could (but won't) rant about dogs that jump up on white dresses with muddy paws, bark all night, hump the guests' legs, chew slippers--not to mention terrorize cats!--, etc. I like dogs, birds, cats, etc., but all can be annoying in the wrong setting or with the wrong owner!

BTW, this is not on a par with the other cat songs above, but if "moggy" is a (UK?) term for cat, how about:

How much is that moggy in the window, (meow)
The one who is laund'ring her fur-ur-ur-ur-ur?
How much is that moggy in the window? (meringue!*)
I'll give you five dollars for her!
(Or, "She has such a deafening purrrrrrr!")

Genie

*One of the dozen or so words most cats can say.

Subject: RE: Lyr/Chords Req: Songs about cats
From: SueH
Date: 03 Oct 01 - 05:01 PM

Heavens, Grab, you really do have an attitude don't you? Most cats which have been reared with any thought & subsquently neutered ('altered') use their litter trays or go outside.

I breed Burmese. They aren't fluffy. They crap in their trays. And you won't have encountered any of my kittens; I don't sell them to people who let them out, nor to those who don't treat them properly. They get in cars & end up hundreds of miles away. They traumatise all moggies within a 5 mile radius. They go into your neighbours' houses & make themselves at home. They are called 'the dogs of the cat world', because they are so people-oriented - but they are the epitome of the difference between the dog & the cat. I am proud to have bred them for the last 20 years.

Fortunately, they also housetrain themselves, so whoever wrote the song Genie quoted didn't have Burmese. Nor did the people you have encountered - nor did they own any other properly bred pedigree kitten, for that matter.

Farms? Of course, farmers with entire(un-neutered) cats ('we keep them to keep the rats/mice/vermin/(*insert own word here) down') & other irresponsible people are in fact responsible for 90-odd percent of the general, untrained, unneutered moggie population. And the litters of kittens with leukaemia, feline Aids, etc, etc., put down en masse by rescue centres. You hate cats? What about the irresponsible people who put these cats on the street, in the care of irresponsible owners? 'Farms' are probably responsible for 50% of the cats you are ranting about.

Apologies for the rant; but you really can't blame the animal for its conception or its owner. Incidentally, I also own dogs & birds (& used to own various rodents when the children were younger, including rats) & I should feel just as strongly about the random & irresponsible breeding of any of them, too). Just remember where the fault lies.
Just to keep on topic, our flautist (also a cat owner & lover) loves the 'Nobody's Moggy Now' song. And a number of others. So far we have managed to disuade him from performing them in public.

SueH

Subject: Lyr Add: THE IN AND OUT SONG (Garrison Keillor)
From: Joe Offer
Date: 03 Oct 01 - 03:47 AM

Hi, Calico. Here's your song. My friend Mr. Scanner was happy to copy it for you.
Excuse me for saying so, but I must say that Mr. Scanner has proven himself a far more loyal and helpful companion than any cat I've ever had. No hairballs, either.
-Joe Offer-

---

THE IN AND OUT SONG
(Garrison Keillor)

I want to go out - open that door if you love me
Gotta go out, want to breathe the air
I gotta get loose with that blue sky above me
I been here long enough, I got to be there

I want to come in - what's the matter, can't you hear me?
I want to come in, I am your cat!
I gotta get warm with the people
I been gone a long, long time and now I'm back

And now I want to go out - I'm an independent creature
I am a cat - we're the wandering kind!
It's the call of the wild - I gotta get back to nature
These paws are made for walking and now it's time.


OK, I'm back, but not for long I'll soon be going -
Give me a bite now and I'm on my way
Now open that door and I'll - good grief, it's snowing -
Open up - lemme in - I'm back to stay

Well, now it's stopped, so thanks for all your lovin' -
Gotta hop that freight, I'm a ramblin' guy
Gotta hit that road - it's in my blood or somethin' -
I know you understand so please don't cry

Hello it's me - I knew you'd probably miss me
So I came back, because I missed you so
But I can't stay long, so honey come and kiss me -
I think I hear that lonesome whistle blow

I'm on my way, got to leave my mom and daddy -
Got to say goodbye, want to hear that highway hum
Now I'm all alone, I'm feeling so unhappy -
It's time that I went back where I came from

Yes, it's lime to go back, time to put that road behind me -
I drifted away, but I'm going back now.
Here's the little white house -
Here s that picket fence and the ivy -
I'll scratch on the door - meow

It's me...lemme in...I can hear you talking in there
Hey - Mom'
All right, I get the joke!
Open up the door.

Meow

(Keillor, arr. Barnett)

From "Songs of the Cat," CD by Garrison Keillor and Frederica von Stade