Dark was the night that it harvested
Souls. Oh, the guttering knell of the
harvester’s call was as chilling as
ice in a fridge’s cool box and it
chilled like a Mocha and it quoth ME-OW
ME-OW, ME-OW, ME-OW
Oh, it chilled like a Mocha and it quoth ME-OW.
Dread was each claw in each paw of dire
Jess, for it reaped as it pounced on each
little mouse chest, with a flick of its
tail like the passing of fate, and it
gutted them clean with a soul-wrenching
Oh, ME-OW, ME-OW, ME-OW
For it gutted them clean with a soul- wrenching ME-OW!