Bustopher Jones Lyrics - Singles - Cats

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 

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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 

For a similar reason, when game is in season 

I'm found, not at Fox's, but Blimp's 

I am frequently seen at the gay Stage and Screen 

Which is famous for winkles and shrimps 

In the season of venison I give my Benison 

To the Pothunter's succulent bones 

And just before noon's not a moment too soon 

To drop in for a drink at the Drones 

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 

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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!