Cat bells ring, and they're hissin';
Static pain's got 'em twitchin',
Eyes bulgin' with fright.
I zap 'em each night,
Shocking kits in winter with my hand.

On their face is a blue blur,
I'm away, there's a "Whew!" purr.
Like a cat-tle prod
Attached to my bod. . .
Shocking kits in winter with my hand.

"Shit!" they're dreadin', "here comes the ill Ohm man,
A demented, teasing, sparkin' clown.
Fluffs our fuzzy fur then goes for nose and
Finger shoots juiced-up jolts after rubdown."

Later on, they conspire
As they seek copper wire.
Effigy they've made,
Placed near where I bathe,
Washing pits and wiggling my gland.

In "kit"'s threaded wire with 110 volts 'n'
They ventriloquate, from afar meowin'.
Fluff that fuzzy fur while I am soakin';
Faux feline gives me jolts; I fry and drown.

More than moles they've been killing;
I'm in hole that they're filling.
The moral, they'd say:
It's OK to play,
Long as you don't shock kits with your hand.

Shocking kits won't win you kitship, and
Shocking kits can get you ditched in land.