Somebody 's Moggie

Somebody's Moggie, by the side of the road,
Somebody's pussy, that forgot his highway code,
Someone's favorite feline, that ran clean out of luck
When he ran onto the road and tried to argue with a truck...

Yesterday, he purred and played in his pussy paradise,
Decapitating tweety-birds and masticating mice;
Now, he's just six pounds of raw red meat that don't smell very nice;
He's nobody's moggie now...

Now, you that love your pussy, be sure to keep him in.
Don't let him argue with a truck; that truck is bound to win.
And if upon that busy road you let him play and frolic,
If you do, I'm warning you, it could be cat-astrophic.

If you let him play on the roadway, I'm afraid that will be that;
You'll hear one last despairing meow and a sort of squishy splat,
And your pussy will be slightly dead, and very, very * flat *.
He's nobody's moggie
(He's just flat and red and soggy)
He's nobody's moggie neow...

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