We met eye-to-eye; you: on the desk, me: in the chair. I wish I really understood why you hopeed through my window that night. Calico, how can you sit up on the windowsill looking so sweet? You'll tear me in strips. While I sleep, you'll rip me to bits. But I'll chase you off. I'll chase you off. Get off my lawn, get off my lawn get off my lawn. Calico, I'll never know why you came. But I know why you stay. You'll tear me in strips. You'll rip me to bits. But I'll chase you off, get off my lawn. I came home from work and the bedskirt was frayed, the curtains pulled down from their poles. The carpet was shredded as if you meant to say, in your own little take on a note: "I'll be home before you know I'm gone. I've got better things to do." Love, Calico