You're a funny a little thing
Your mama tells you so
When you're staring into darkness
At what she'd like to know

With no sound at all
You slink into the room
You sit there all wide-eyed
For it's the witching hour soon

Ears pricked and ready to fight
Your claws already drawn
You sit and wait expectedly
But all that comes is dawn

And when the sun appears
Your guard is up no more
You cuddle up to mama
Whose love you can't ignore