A cat is a special gift from God
just a simple ball of fur
who will let you know he's happy
when he thanks you with his purr
We'll begin with box; the plural is boxes;
But the plural of ox is oxen, not oxes,
One fowl is a goose, and two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose is never called meese.
I've often wondered to myself
what causes cats to stray;
are they fleeing from a cruel life
and trying to run away?
Thank you, God, for harvest-time,
For milk, for meat, for fish,
Thank you, God, for all the food,
I find upon my dish.
A loved one dies, a wake is held, and friends all euologize
They try to tell you death can be a blessing in disguise
They say it's probably for the best, that this is their belief
They offer you their sympathy, to try and ease your grief
'Twas the night before Christmas
and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
not even a mouse
I had two little kittens
I named them Pat and Mike
And as they grew I soon found out
How much they were alike
I hope I'm not asking too much, Lord,
All I want is a home of my own,
And to know when my next meal is coming
Instead of the scraps I get thrown.
Two little kittens, one stormy night,
Began to quarrel, and then to fight;
One had a mouse, the other had none,
And that's the way the quarrel begun.