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I'll Tell My Cat
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Based on the Irish song, 'I'll Tell My Ma (When I Come Home).' This parody could also be called 'The Pussywhipped Song.'
irish folk songs scottish
Artist picture
Marc Gunn is an Irish and Scottish folk singer with a strange affinity for Celtic ballads, drinking songs and cats, and he is the lead singer for the Brobdingna
Marc Gunn is an Irish and Scottish folk singer with a strange affinity for Celtic ballads, drinking songs and cats, and he is the lead singer for the Brobdingnagian Bards.
Song Info
Genre
World • Traditional Celtic
Charts
Peak #199
Peak in subgenre #13
Author
words Marc Gunn/music traditional
Rights
Marc Gunn
Uploaded
January 18, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.1 MB • 128 kbps • 2:18
Story behind the song
My tabby cats are indoor kitties. This means every week or so I have to pin my tabbys down to clip their nails, because I am not about to have them declawed. You try cutting off one of your fingers to the first knuckle and you'll know what I mean. Fortunately, my boys aren't nearly as bad as this little angel who shows her love... by using those unclipped claws to shred every bit o'furniture in the house in this latest addition to my future Irish Drinking Songs for Cat Lovers CD. Based on the Irish song, "I'll Tell My Ma (When I Come Home)." This parody could also be called "The Pussywhipped Song."
Lyrics
I'll tell my cat when I come home, "Leave the furniture alone." She tore my sheets and shred my couch. I'm tired of coming home a grouch. --chorus-- But she is loving. She is pretty. And I am so whipped by my kitty. Her claws catch my sleeve, rips 1, 2, 3 Please won't you leave the curtains be. I tell her each morning that I love her. But my shoes need laces so please don't chew 'em. She mews real sweet then knocks over a candle Now she's gnawing on my sandles. Out of the bathroom she struts quite bold, A roll of toilet paper clung to her toe. I really wonder if I will kill her When her mouth has feathers from my pillow. Let the thunder storms crash all night long She'll be too scared to rend my thong. She may be shivering from fright, But at least this weekend I'll have my tights. I bought her a scratch post of her own. So she'll leave my living room alone. But I come home to see only fluff and filling If she hadn't just meowed, there'd be a killin'. --chorus-- --last chorus-- She is loving. She is pretty. And I am so whipped by my kitty. Her claws catch my sleeve, rips 1, 2, 3 I never liked those curtains anyway.
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