Tim Furagone lived on Walklin Street
A gentle Sphynx Cat mighty odd
He had a meow both thick and sweet
And to jump off a fence he'd land with a thod
Now the cat had a sorta nibbler's way
For the love of the herb he was born
And to help him on his way each day
He'd roll in the catnip every morn
[ch]
A whack for the dog
Then dance with all laughter
Round the floor a rat's tail chase
Jump on a shelf. Now what will we shatter?
Lots of fun at Furagone's Wake
One morning Tim pounced on a fowl
Up on a roof top. His paws did skate
He fell from the roof, his ninth life gone
They carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a shredded bed sheet
And laid him out in his cat bed
With a bottle of milk at his tail
And a ball of string at his head
The Tom cats gathered at the wake
A fluffy Persian brought a fish for lunch
A Calico shared his tuna fish cake
While an Abysinnian lapped catnip punch
Then Kitty O'Brian began to cry
"Mreooooow, it's sad to see!
Such a young cat to lose nine lives."
"Will ye bite your tail," said Paddy Furry
Then Maggie O'Mackrel took up the yowl
"Oh Kitty," says she, "Go tend your fur."
Then Kitty bit her on the paw
And sent them clawing on the floor
Then a Cat Fight did soon engage
It was Manx to Manx
And Tab to Tab
Whiskers and fur flew round insane
Some wounds we lick will never scab
Then Sean Abysinn ducked his head
When a bucket of catnip flew at him
It missed and landed on the cat bed
The catnip scattered all over Tim
Well the strength of the herb gave him life once more
Tim leaped like a lion from the bed
Growling, "For Bast's sake, bite your fur!
If ye waste my catnip, you'll make me mad!'