Farewell Barefeet

The cats on 63rd Street, they do not eat the mice,
and when a juicy rat runs past, they turn their nose up twice.
For cats on 63rd Street, meals come in cans.
Their lonely servants come each day with tuna fish in hand,
at six o'clock and seven, and once again at eight,
then those cats will shit all day-- oops, I mean defecate.
The world is their oyster, their life is truly grand.
For cats on 63rd Street, their litterbox: the sand.

So, if you love the beaches, and if you love the sun,
Miami Beach might seem like, an awful lot of fun.
But whether you paid millions for your box of luxury,
or if you fed the meter to tan your poor booty,
the cats on 63rd Street truly do not care.
They're far too busy spreading hookworm everywhere!