All night, last night, I heard the black cats yowling,
Sitting, sitting on the white picket fence,
Above, the full moon had risen -
good for mournful howling,
All the fitful midnight sleepers would've gladly paid a pence,
Off in the distance other black cats returned the call,
What was this all about? Had their leader died?
The poor nonsleepers will not sleep at all,
Black cats of the neighborhood just won't subside,
Yowling, yowling, yowling, the black cats go on and on,
The world has become restless, tired beyond belief,
Just can't get out of my mind
that the leader could be dead and gone,
Perhaps once this full moon ends it will bring relief,
Suddenly, the sun came up, the moon went down, and all was quiet,
You wouldn't have known that all last night
the black cats had done nothing but riot.