My cat and the pope.

Ohh woe is me.

My kittys ran away.

Gone into the streets as a stray.

Never to be seen again.

Probly hit by a guy named stan.

Dodging traffic like a shooting duck.

Even though he knows he sucks.

Raining on his perfect main.

By a wizard he will be slain.

But alas there is still hope.

The news says the cat has reiced the pope.

One look and i can tell its him.

Playing on the popes hats rim.

So i call up the pope hotline.

To speak to the pope and tell him its mine.

Only to find that i dialed the wrong number.

And drifted off to a slumber.

The next day i flew to rome.

Taking from the plane a free black comb.

Going to the vatican.

Just to see my cat again.