I’m a witch’s cat
I’m a witch’s cat
Owd Pendle is me name
and I’m owder still
than the spooky hill
that’s stolen all me fame.

I stay indoors
and watch the Moors
and try to get some kip,
but there’s more chance
that yer teacher dance
‘cos kids are wagging lip.

I’m a witch’s cat,
that’s the truth o that,
and I’s born in Lancashire.
I knows the spell
that’ll make dogs yell
and the birds fly off in fear.

I’m owd as t’hills
and yer grandpa’s beard
gone as grey as yer auntie’s teef.
If you mek a noise
with yer games and toys
I’ll turn like an Autumn leaf.

I’ll raise me paw
and I’ll set me eye
on yer noisy waking ways
and I won’t think twice,
no I won’t act nice
and I’ll curse yer blooming days.

Ye’ll be hopping mad
ye’ll be feeling sad
ye’ll be scratching like an itch
‘cos I told you once
keep it in yer bonce
I’m the cat of a Pendle witch.

I’m a witch’s cat
that’s the truth o that,
so don’t be crossing me
‘cos I know the words
just ask the birds
and I’ll turn you to a flea. 

If you enjoyed this and would like to support my work then please…