I'm an alley cat with one life left, 
I started out with nine, 
but lost the first in a knockdown fight 
with a cat named Frankenstein, 
my second went soon after that 
to something that I ate, 
my third went under a garbage truck — 
I noticed it too late. 

While strolling through the zoo one day, 
I heard an awful roar, 
I'd strayed into a lion's cage— 
so much for number four, 
I lost my fifth one morning 
to a ton of falling bricks, 
then tumbled from a window ledge, 
and gave up number six. 

My seventh went to a Saint Bernard 
I was no match for him, 
my eighth was squandered in the lake—
it seems I couldn't swim, 
so now I'd better watch my step, 
I'm down to number nine, 
I'm an alley cat with one life left, 
and glad that life is mine.