I can catch anything--I am a cat.
I can catch more than a mouse or a rat.
I can catch lizards, or beetles, or frogs.
Sometimes I think I could even catch dogs.
I can catch sunshine, or moonbeams, or wind.
I could catch stars if the sky would just bend
a little bit closer. I'm telling you that
I can catch anything--I am a cat.
Oh, I ought to be in the circus,
on the flying trapese, don'tcha know,
soaring and hearing the roar of
the audience, way down below.
Walking along the highwire,
graceful and sure, without fail.
Wearing red and gold spangles,
with ribbons around my tail.
Yes, I belong in the big top.
I'm sure you'll agree with me that
it's sad that my antics are wasted
on a couple of dogs and a cat.
Tiny brown ants are all in a line
that runs through the blades of grass.
A little boy lies on his belly,
watching them as they pass,
carrying crumbs from the picnic basket.
He hears his mother shout,
"Who asked you bugs to our picnic?
Shoo, scat, go on, now! Get out!"
The green parrot on his pet shop perch
has a faraway look in his eyes.
You'd almost believe he was dreaming,
but what would he fantasize?
I'll bet he's thinking of pirate ships
and chests of stolen gold,
imagining how he'd look on the arm
of a buccaneer, brave and bold.
If you give an armadillo a fright,
he'll stop, and drop, and roll up tight.
He sort of gives himself a hug,
like a giant roly-poly bug.
