On an afternoon in the month of June
a wistful cat sat cryin',
for her owners were not good to her
a cousin of the Lion.
On her plate was glued some dried up food
she cared not to examine,
and as she wept she sat and dreamt
of the land of milk and Salmon.
Oh the fresh catfish in the china dish
where the cream flows from the fountain,
on the high plateau where the catnip grows
out in the Catskill Mountains.

Out in the Catskill Mountains, the land of the big feed trough
the couches are all comfortable
and no one kicks you off.
The dogs are taught to honor cats
as beautiful and holy,
and the birds all fall right on the ground
and the mice run very slowly.


Out in the Catskill Mountains fresh tuna just appears,
and people beg you for the chance
to scratch behind your ears.
Where a cat can lie flat on his back and never be auspicious,
and the grass is sweet beneath your feet
and the house plants are delicious.


Dr.Demento Show.

actual song posted on my songs

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In the morning they look at me..standing on top of me..on the bed..
with...the get up glare while my wife and I play the "we don't see you game"
a game we've never won..and so begins the day.


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