As I was going to Van Nuys
I met a man with three ex-wives

And each ex-wife had seven cats
The kind that carry baseball bats

And all the cats had hired P.I.s
To follow all their feline wives

The P.I.s all had gray-haired mothers
And development deals at Warner Bros.

Each deal had an exit clause
According to the studio bylaws

The laws came down from Old King Cole
And a team of lawyers on his merry payroll

Each lawyer had a lovely wife
A registered gun and a hunting knife

The lawyer’s wife would shop at Saks
With a team of gumshoes on her back

She’d buy designer socks and mittens
And toys designed to please a kitten

Then to her car and away she’d drive
And lose the dicks on the 405

A love nest in Canoga Park
A kitten waiting in the dark

But one P.I. had tailed her well
And he got the lawyer on his cell

The lawyer to the Valley flew
In a beautiful pea-green BMW

He cried as he burst in their shack
“I'll drown your kitten in a burlap sack”

But the lovers, they were armed with knives
Just like those cats and their ex-wives

They fell on him in righteous anger
And spread the pieces in Topanga

That P.I., he was tough to beat, though
They had to give him a credit line at the Home Depot

Private eyes and missing toes
Lawyers, kings, and studios

Kittens, cats, sacks and wives
In a trunk
In a Buick
At Magnolia and Van Nuys