Catfish In The Water

Way past the creek where the gravel road ends

Barnaby climbed up the cypress again He stared at the tide from

his high wooden perch Like a preacher in boots on a Sunday

at church (ah-ha)

He shook out his whiskers and leaped from the pine

Straight in the salt of the deep borderline

Most folks would say that a cat doesn't float But he's paddling

wild like an old wooden boat

Oh,

Barnaby's swimming out under the blue (doing what he wants to) Doing

cat things in a dog-paddled shoe With the weight of the world

washing off of his fur He's making the ocean hum just like

a purr

Old Mrs. Sally looked out from her door

Spilling her coffee right onto the floor She swore that she saw

a small striped orange tail

Chasing a crab like a tiny wet sail

Just a cat in the sea...

(hummmm) Letting it be