Andrew Lloyd Webber - Bustopher Jones (Cats) lyrics

Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones In fact, he's remarkably fat He doesn't haunt pubs, he has eight or nine clubs For he's the St. James Street cat! He's the cat we all greet as we walk down the street In his coat of fastidious black No common-place mousers have such well cut trousers Or such an impeccable back In the whole of St. James's the smartest of names is The name of this Brummell of cats And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to By Bustopher Jones in white spats My visits are occasional to the senior educational And it is against the rules For any one cat to belong both to that And the joint superior schools When I'm seen in a hurry there's probably curry At the Siamese or at the glutton When I look full of gloom then I've lunched at the tomb On cabbage, rice pudding and mutton In the whole of St. James's the smartest of names is The name of this Brummell of cats And we're all of us proud to be nodded or bowed to By Bustopher Jones in white spats So much in this way passes Bustopher's day At one club or another he's found It can be no surprise that under our eyes He has grown unmistakably round He's a twenty-five pounder or I am a bounder And he's putting on weight every day But I'm so well preserved because I've observed All my life a routine and I'd say I am still in my prime, I shall last out my time That's the word from this stoutest of cats It must and it shall be spring in Pall Mall While Bustopher Jones wears white Bustopher Jones wears white Bustopher Jones wears white spats