The sound of Merlins ‘neath the sun.
Good folk, watch out for our new member.
Beware his deadly spitting gun,
Unless you want to be an ember.
Oh Nightcat, oh Nightcat. He’s all o-ver the sky.
Oh Nightcat, oh Nightcat. But no one knows quite why!
Night. His eyes are dark as coals.
Night. His flight is lacking fin-esse.
His wings are fully filled with holes.
His mug is always full of Guin-ness.
Oh Nightcat, oh Nightcat. His flying’s rather thin.
Oh Nightcat, oh Nightcat. Let’s welcome the lad in!