He sits in his stance and excites in his slumber
What are cats for, but to sleep and to rumba
Dances in the morning, frolic in the evening
Time is like the wind, and he has long ceased endeavouring
Up he gets and around he turns
If you listen closely you will hear, his stomach churns!
But “Put it to rest”, he says after meal-time
Necessities will be provided again, and all is fine
Quiet and inconspicuous, and never far away
Is there a plan for this feline today?
A game in the sun, prey in the night
Construction is a thing of the past, and he just cries if dinner is not right
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