Letras
Gus is the cat at the theatre door
His name, as I ought to have told you before
Is really Asparagus, but that's such a fuss to pronounce
That we usually call him just Gus
His coat's very shabby, he's thin as a rake
And he suffers from palsy that makes his paws shake
Yet he was in his youth quite the smartest of cats
Though no longer a terror to mice and to rats
For he isn't the cat that he was in his prime
Though his name was quite famous (he says) in his time
And whenever he joins his friends at the club
Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub
He loves to regale them, if someone else pays
With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days
For he once was a star of the highest degree
He has acted with Irving, he has acted with Tree
And he likes to relate his success on the halls
Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls
But his grandest creation, as he loves to tell
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell
I have played in my time every possible part
And I used to know seventy speeches by heart
I'd extemporise Black Jack, I knew how to gag
And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag
I knew how to act with my back and my tail
With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail
I'd a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts
Whether I took the lead or in character parts
I have sat by the bedside of poor little Nell
When the curfew was rung, then I swung on the bell
In the pantomime season, I never fell flat
And I once understudied Dick Whittington's cat
But my grandest creation, as history will tell
Was Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell
Then if someone will give him a toothful of gin
He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne
At a Shakespeare performance, he once walked on pat
When some actor suggested the need for a cat
And I say now, these kittens, they do not get trained
As we did in the days when Victoria reigned