my cat, my cat, morosity maimed my cat

drat that drat that, all i want is my puss back!

we crawled through thick and thin and listened to the din

drat that, jack sprat, all i want is my puss back!

where the river is wide it is shallow

where branches drop into the dry bed

there is a lone person in the shade

who feels the wind under the sun;

it does not hurt, but there's no smell.

they sit there with a wide eye and inhale

the desert and the sky and the sun

there is a vista that fills the senses

the veld fills all the thorns and adorns the dry