The moon, though, was waning, and it started raining,
The dance, it was washed to the sea,
So they hurried inside, where they lived till Owl died,
Then Pussy climbed up in a tree.
Her friends from the town cried "Pussy, come down!"
But she acted like she hadn't heard.
She wailed out her grief, blew her nose with a leaf,
And dreamed of her nocturnal bird.
At night she meowed, and the sound was so loud
That children asleep in their beds
Heard them as screams in the nightmarish dreams
That haunted their innocent heads.
But something then flew past the tree -- Pussy knew
It was Owl, or his ghost, saying "Come!
Go get the spoon and we'll dance 'neath the moon,"
And the screams in the tree-top fell dumb.
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