Little mice, trussed up so nice,
Are roasting on the grill.
Oh! what fun when they are done,
For kats to eat their fill!
All the kitty kats are there,
For it’s their special day.
With vim and pep they prance and step.
They love to romp and play.
As kittens sport, their mothers set
A ribbon at each place.
Each momma kat makes certain that
Each youngster combs its face.
A baby birdie shivers on
Each gaily colored plate,
And though the maws say, “Wash your paws!”,
The wee ones cannot wait!
"Oh, listen to their frightened cries
Whenever we come near!
See them roll their tiny eyes
And see them quake with fear!
“Oh, let us have one, Daddy dear,
To tease and fill with fright!”
“I am too lenient, I fear,”
Says Poppa, “But, all right.”
Once Grace is said, the forks come out.
The feasting shan’t be through
Till every feline’s had his fill
Of birdie barbecue!
And home they troop, to doze all day,
In Dreamland to arrive.
How grand to be a kitty kat!
How great to be alive!
(Originally ca 1981. Started by Ken D., finished by Kip W. Reconstructed from incomplete memories, 2016; found an original, kept some changes)