Pads, Paws and Claws

She's a feline tormentor, not any vaudeville wife
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 clawsAnd 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, little honey, let me under your hive"
She pads, paws, pads, paws and clawsShe 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 backShe's got spider-leg fingers, sharpened whenever he strays
And she carries a bird-purse, with all of her womanly ways
Oh, while he's drinking hairspray, she knows that he never would dare
She could be in pictures if she wasn't all covered in furSo, 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 favorite size
She pads, paws, pads, paws and clawsShe pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
She paws, paws
Pads, paws
Oh, yeah
Pads, paws, pads, paws and claws
Pads, paws
Yeah