Words and Music by Dennis Livingston There were three cats from Poestenkill [Post] who climbed up to the moon on a ladder made from gossamer thread, hung by a spider who stood on her head, while listening hard (as best she could) to the cry of a lonely loon. The cats they took a pot of tea and a bag of cinnamon scones, along with a jar of marmalade, a tablecloth made of fine brocade, three forks, one knife, two sugar cubes, and a pair of dried up bones. When they arrived, they all set out to see what they could see. Leaping, pouncing, twisting, twirling, suddenly still, then suddenly whirling, having a party is oodles of fun if there isn't much gravity. Proceeding this way, it didn't take long to enter a cratery gloom. Where a great many objects of varying size appeared before their dazzled eyes. They couldn't believe it and started to laugh on THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON. They could see     A thousan' toy boats torn loose from their docks, a million stray sheep too far from their flocks, a billion sad keys all missing their locks, a trillion or so mismatched dirty socks.   Tattered teddy bears that once were so loved 'till into a corner they were carelessly shoved. Buttons and ribbons and earrings galore that had fallen through the cracks in many a floor.   Pencils and paper clips in countless array, tons of rusty fishing hooks from the Bay of Biscay. Plenty of homework that never went to school 'cause it fell off the table, skittered under a stool.   They had all disappeared without any trace, or so it was thought, Your Honor, Your Grace, but now the cats had found the place where the many lost things of the human race must make their way through outer space to THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON. Those daring three cats from Poestenkill danced on through the long lunar night. They drank their tea and nibbled their scones while rhythmic'ly banging the dried up bones. One played with the bears, one chased the sheep and the third leapt away from a meteorite. Till by and by, they felt themselves begin to stretch and yawn. It was time to go home, as good cats do, before the crack of dawn. They scampered back down to dear old Earth on the ladder made of gossamer thread, that was hung by a spider who stood on her head... They were more than ready to go to bed. So they softly crept, with nary a sound, to the darkness of their room, lapped their milk from a golden spoon, far from the cry of the lonely loon, purring with plans for returning quite soon ... to THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOON!   © 1999 Hallmark Music Co.   Back to previous page Back to SONGS main page