| Sarah
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| Gus is the cat at the theatre door
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| His name, as I ought to have told you before
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| Is really Asparagus, but that’s a fuss to pronounce
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| That we usually call him just Gus
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| His coat’s very shabby, he’s thin as a rake
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| And he suffers from palsy that makes his paw shake
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| For he was in his youth quite the smartest of cats
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| But no longer a terror to mice or to rats
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| For he isn’t the cat that he was in his prime
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| Though his name was quite famous, he says, in his time
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| And whenever he joins his friends at their club
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| (Which takes place at the back of the neighbouring pub)
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| He loves to regale them, if someone else pays
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| With anecdotes drawn from his palmiest days
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| For he once was a star of the highest degree
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| He has acted with Irving, he’s acted with Tree
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| And he likes to relate his success on the halls
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| Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls
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| But his grandest creation as he loves to tell
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| Was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
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| Sir John
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| I have played in my time every possible part
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| And I used to know seventy speeches by heart
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| I’d extemporize backchat, I knew how to gag
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| And I knew how to let the cat out of the bag
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| I knew how to act with my back and my tail
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| With an hour of rehearsal, I never could fail
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| I’d a voice that would soften the hardest of hearts
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| Whether I took the lead, or in character parts
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| I have sat by the bedside of poor little Nell
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| When the curfew was rung then I swung on the bell
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| In the pantomime season, I never fell flat
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| And I once understudied Dick Whittington’s cat
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| But my grandest creation, as history will tell
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| Was Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell
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| Sarah
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| Then, if someone will give him a toothful of gin
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| He will tell how he once played a part in East Lynne
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| At a Shakespeare performance he once walked on pat
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| When some actor suggested the need for a cat
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| Sir John
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| And I say now these kittens, they do not get trained
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| As we did in the days when Victoria reigned
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| They never get drilled in a regular troupe
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| And they think they are smart just to jump through a hoop
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| Sarah
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| And he says as he scratches himself with his claws
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| Sir John
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| Well the theatre is certainly not what is was
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| These modern productions are all very well
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| But there’s nothing to equal from what I hear tell
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| That moment of mystery when I made history
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| As Firefrorefiddle, the fiend of the fell |