Old man Cecil, the cat that never died;
He grew a little older, but he never left my side.
His yellow fur turned white one day,
and twisted different ways.
His scruffy mangled yellow face
had turned a lighter shade.
Old man Cecil, the cat that never died;
They say he’s lived a hundred years, the end still not in sight.
A feeble hiss replaced a roar,
much softer than before.
His crooked tail stood straight no more,
but dragged along the floor.
Old man Cecil, the cat that never died;
He never even ran from Death, it never even tried.
No mortal weight to slow him down,
he walked right out of town.
I haven’t seen him come back ‘round,
I wonder where he’s found.
Old man Cecil, the cat that never died;
No one knows just where to find him, though many have all tried.
So if you see him walking past,
just tell him that I ask;
“Please wander back to me at last,
I’ll pour us both a glass.”
