Full of hate...an' spite
I have got a cat that isn't right
She will hiss an' arch her back an' bite
An' she'll poo...in my shoe
Once she filled...my bong
When I drew I got this acrid pong
Lungs were peeling it was so strong
And I threw
Then she jumped up at me
And she hung there above my knee
Coz her claw was right in my thighs
In my thighs

In the yard...she's king
An' birds never get the chance to sing
Claws are little but they don't half sting
Makes 'em dread...makes 'em dead
Bird she tried...to stun
But the goo, it all began to run
So I couldn't help but dip a bun
An' some rye bread
On intestines I'll chew
With the carcass I'll make a stew
Or for sure the kite will make pies
Will make pies
-------------------------
Didn't cook...the breast
It's not something that I could digest
Coz it made me hurl, I should have guessed
No surprise
If I can I'll ignore
When they warn not to eat it raw
Not for me, the shite from them guys
From them guys
From them guys
From them guys
From them guys