my cat is on the skids
that's where he lives
lying in the sun's rays
he sleeps his days away
he's easy, won't hurt a fly
doesn't care, really
doesn't have the time
Gandalf must be the oldest cat in the world
but i'm sure he likes it that way
when my car pulls in
he runs home
that's the only time he runs
and when he's sure i'm holding the door for him
he slows down to a walk
i'll look at him
but hardly in the eye.
we know how to get along;
i feed him, and he comes around for it.
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