Johnny says: As we were completing the album, the Professor penned the words to this song. He had suffered several strokes, a heart murmur and an overgrooming problem along with a host of other health problems. He seemed to be sensing the end was near. The words talk about the plight of a house cat--stuck inside, but evolved to be outside, hunting and exploring the vastness of nature. I began to see myself in his words. Us humans also evolved to be outdoors-- walking or running around, not sitting at desks and in cars. Not staring at computer screens and not shackled by laws and rules and regulations. As we recorded the song with Andre Mejia, the Professor insisted that we include a quiet instrumental break. I later came to realize that this moment in the song represented death and finally being free from all the different things that constrain us. The Professor believed there was an afterlife and he was convinced he was about to enter into it. Fittingly enough, the U2esque guitar part in this song is a mixed up version of a guitar part that I came up for a song called Awesome God when I used to play in a band in church.
Please Google "Our Animal Natures", the New York Times article by Barbara Natterson Horowitz and Kathryn Bowers
lyrics
Dry Cat Food
I just want to have real cat food for once
I’m so sick of this dry shit that they feed me
My ancestors lived out in the wild
Long before clocks began keeping time
Perched in the shade of a willow tree all day
And hunting their prey in the middle of the night
Below the jungle’s canopy
And in the mountain trees
No walls to fence them in at all
And catching fish at the base of a waterfall
I just want to have real cat food for once
I’m so sick of this dry shit that they feed me
I don’t know what I’m doing here
I don’t know who I am
But I spend my days stuck inside the house
My teeth were made to kill
My claws were meant to cut through the night
I’m still a wild animal deep down
But I’m stuck living someone else’s life
I just want to have real cat food for once
I’m so sick of this dry shit that they feed me
I don’t know what I’m doing here
I don’t know who I am
But I spend my days stuck inside the house
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