Pads, Paws And Claws

She's a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife But with a drunk-town lament he leads her a miserable life But when he's full of that beer-champagne She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws And if he should wake up in some terrible dive And he don't know if he's so-so But he's so surprised he's alive "Come on little honey, let me under your hive" She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws She pads, pads around the bedroom, practicing ways to flirt He paws, pours another drink and anything in a skirt Anything wearing a necklace He thinks of claws scratching his back He's going out there he's not coming back She's got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways Till he's drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare She could be in pictures if she wasn't all covered in fur He's coming home now and here's the surprise You wouldn't believe the lies that he tries She cut him down to her favourite size She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws