Friday, 15 October 2010

King of the Vagabonds

I think of myself as a maintenance cat,
I take care of the ladies...
I get a top notch hat.
This is beyond the birds and the bees,
This is basic, raw desire and need,
I don't want no kitties,
I don't need to plant my seed,
I already got 47 smaller mes,
Getting around, passing fleas.
I love 'em, don't get me wrong,
But when the 47th came out,
I ran on the 12 o'clock gong.
It was time for a new life,
I wanted some old cat style strife.

Now I look after the femme cats behind Grand Hall,
The siamese like the opera and ballet,
I prefer it behind the shopping mall.
I do like a bit of culture though me,
I frikkin' love David Bowie,
And that flute player down the alley.

If I like a lady a lot, I'll take her to Romanos
we'll share a mackeral and a Cinzano.
And if that day I catch a mouse or two,
maybe we'll even twos a tiramasu.

One day I'll stick with one cat,
We'll sit all day, and get all fat.

There is one I...
Every day I meow for her as I pass her mansion by...
When she's out she plays with me all day,
Until her gourmet mousse is lain on its tray.
When she goes, I just lay and lay.
I miss her light whiskers and sun ray.

But this is the life of me,
She's all tucked up in her house with a key.
I've got to keep happy all those femmes,
Bored all day, chasing around hems.
We'll see what will happen to me.
I have my hats from the proceeds,
of my bespoke company.
From the velvets to the tweeds,
I'm smoother than honey.

I call myself Bill,
One day you might see me on the hill,
Breathing in my fill.
Alone but buzzing like a bee,
Purring for me.

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