In the perfect stillness of the night
When the servant has put out the light
And retired off to bed
On soft feet we tread
When we are sure we will be out of sight

On our four tiny paws colored pink
Through the cupboards barefooted we slink
Sniffing for bits
Of toast cheese and grits
And water to sip pooled in the sink

Pay no mind to the old tabby cat
She has grown lazy and fat
On rich buttercreams
And peacefully dreams
By the hearth on a soft woven mat

By the first trickling light of the dawn
From pantry and larder we've withdrawn
Snuggled up together
In fur and in feather
And clippings brought in from the lawn