I Testi di Cats - Equipe di Animazione Tanka Village 2002

Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats

Are you blind when you're born? Can you see in the dark?
Dare you look look at a king? Would you sit on his throne?
Can you say of your bite that it's worse than your bark?
Are you cock of the walk when you're walking alone?

Because jellicles are and Jellicles do.
Jellicles do and Jellicles would.
Jellicles would and Jellicles can.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.

When you fall on your head, do you land on your feet?
Are you tense when you sense there's a storm in the air?
Can you find your way blind when you're lost in the street?
Do you know how to go to the Heaviside Layer?

Because Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicles do and Jellicles can.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicles do and Jellicles can.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.

Can you ride on a broomstick to places far distant?
Familiar with candle, with book, and with bell?
Were you Whittington's friend? The Pied Piper's assistant?
Have you been an alumnus of heaven and hell?

Are you mean like a minx? Are you lean like a lynx?
Are you keen to be seen when you're smelling a rat?
Were you there when the pharoahs commissioned the Sphinx?
If you were and you are, you're a Jellicle Cat!

Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.

We can dive through the air like a flying trapeze.
We can turn double somersaults, bounce on a tire.
We can run up a wall, we can swing through the trees.
We can balance on bars, we can walk on a wire.

Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.

Can you sing at the same time in more than one key?
Duets by Rossini and waltzes by Strauss?
And can you (as cats do) begin with a 'C'?
That always triumphantly brings down the house?

Jellicle Cats are queen of the nights singing at astronomical heights.
Handling pieces from the 'Messiah.'
Hallelujah, angelical choir.

The mystical divinity of unashamed felinity.
Round the cathedral rang 'Vivat.'
Life to the everlasting cat!
Feline, fearless, faithful and true to others who do-what . . .

Jellicles do and Jellicles can.
Jellicles can and Jellicles do.
Jellicle Cats sing Jellicle Chants.
Jellicles old and Jellicles new.
Jellicle song and Jellicle dance.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.

Practical cats, dramatical cats, pragmatical cats, fanatical cats.
Oratorical cats, delphicoracle cats, skeptical cats, dispeptical cats.
Romantical cats, pedantical cats, critical parasitical cats, allegorical cats.
Metaphorical cats, statistical cats, and mystical cats.
Political cats, hypocritical cats, clerical cats, hysterical cats.
Cynical cats, rabbinical cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.
Jellicle songs for Jellicle Cats.

The Naming of Cats

There's a man over there with a look of surprise.
As much as to say as to say now, well how about that?
Do I actually see with my own very eyes?
A man who's not heard of a Jellicle Cat?
What's a Jellicle Cat?
What's a Jellicle Cat?

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter.
It isn't just one of your holiday games.
You may think at first I'm mad as a hatter
When I tell you a cat must have three different names.

First of all, there's the name that the family use daily.
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James.
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey.
All of them are sensible, everyday names.

But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular.
A name that's peculiar and more dignified.
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular?
Or spread out his whiskers or cherish his pride?

Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum.
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat.
Such as Bombalurina or else Jellylorum.
Names that never belong to more than one cat.

But above and beyond, there's still one name left over.
And that is the name that you will never guess.
The name that no human research can discover.
But the cat himself knows and will never confess.

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same.
His mind is engaged in rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name.
His ineffable, effable, effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular name.
Name, name, name, name, name, name.

The Invitation to the Jellicle Ball

Jellicle Cats come out tonight.
Jellicle cats come one, come all.
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle Cats come out tonight.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle cats come out tonight.
Jellicle cats come one, come all.
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle Cats come out tonight.
Jellicle cats come one, come all.
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle Cats meet once a year at the Jellicle Ball
Where we all rejoice and the Jellicle Leader will soon appear.
And make what is known as the Jellicle Choice.
That's when Old Deuteronomy just before dawn
Through a silence you feel you could cut with a knife,
Announces the cat who can now be reborn
And come back to different Jellicle Life.
Because waiting up there is the Heaviside Layer
With wonders one Jellicle only will see.
Jellicles ask because Jellicles dare:
Who will it be?

The Old Gumbie Cat

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind.
Her name is Jennyanydots.
Her coat is of the tabby kind with tiger stripes and leopard spots.
All day she sits beneath the stairs or on the steps or on the mat.
She sits and sits and sits and that's what makes a gumbie cat.
That's what makes a Gumbie Cat.

But . . .
When the day's hustle and bustle is done Then the Gumbie Cat's work is but hardly begun.
And when all the family's in bed and asleep, She tucks up her skirts to the basement to creep.
She is deeply concerned with the ways of the mice:
Their behavior's not good and their manners not nice.
So when she has got them lined up on the matting,
She teaches them music, crocheting and tatting.

I have a Gumbie Cat in mind.
Her name is Jennyanydots.
The curtain cord she likes to wind and tie it into sailor knots.
She sits upon the windowsill or anything that's smooth and flat.
She sits and sits and sits and that's what makes a Gumbie Cat.
That's what makes a Gumbie Cat.

But . . .
When the day's hustle and bustle is done
Then the Gumbie Cat's work is but hardly begun.
She thinks that the cockroaches need employment
To prevent them from idle and wanton destroyment.

So she's formed from that lot of disorderly louts
A troop of well-disciplined helpful boy scouts
With a purpose in life and a good deed to do.
And she's even created a beetles tattoo!

For she's a jolly good fellow!

Thank you my dears . . .

The Rum Tum Tugger

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.

If you offer me pheasant, I'd rather have grouse.
If you put me in a house, I would much prefer a flat.
If you put me in a flat, I would rather have a house.
If you set me on a mouse, then I only want a rat.
If you set me on a rat, then I'd rather chase a mouse.

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.
And there isn't any need for me to shout it.
For he will do as he do do
And there's nothing doing about it!

The Rum Tum Tigger is a terrible bore.

When you let me in, then I want to go out.
I'm always on the wrong side of every door.
And as soon as I'm at home, then I'd like to get about.
I like to lie in the bureau drawer,
But I make such a fuss if I can't get out.

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.

And there isn't any need for you to doubt it.
For he will do as he do do.
And there's no doing anything about it!

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious beast.

My disobliging ways are a matter of habit.When there isn't any fish, then I won't eat rabbit.
If you offer me cream, then I sniff and sniff.
For I only like what I find for myself.
So you'll catch me in it right up to my ears
If you put it away on the larder shelf.

The Rum Tum Tugger is artful and knowing.
The Rum Tum Tugger . . .

Doesn't care for a cuddle
But I'll leap upon your lap in the middle of your sewing
For there's nothing I enjoy like a horrible muddle!

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.
The Rum Tum Tugger doesn't care for a cuddle.

The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat.
And there isn't any need for me to spout it.
For he will do as he do do
And there's nothing doing about it!

Grizabella the Glamour Cat

Remark the cat who hesitates toward you.
In the light of the door which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her coat is torn and stained with sand.
And you see the corner of her eye twist like a crooked pin.

She haunted many a low resort
Near the grimy road of Tottenham Court.
She flitted about the No Man's Land
From "The Rising Sun" to "The Friend at Hand."
And the postman sighed as he scratched his head,
"You'd really had thought she ought to be dead."
And who would ever suppose that?
That was Grizabella, the glamour cat?

Grizabella, the glamour cat.
Grizabella, the glamour cat.
And who would ever suppose that
That was Grizabella, the glamour cat?

Bustopher Jones

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.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

The greatest magicians have something to learn
From Mr. Mistoffelees Conjuring Turn.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were a notorious couple of cats.
As knockabout clowns, quick-change comedians,
Tight-rope walkers and acrobats.
They had an extensive reputation.
They made their home in Victoria Grove.
That was merely their center of operation.
For they were incurable given to rove.

If the area window was found ajar
And the basement looked like a field of war.
If a tile or two came loose on the roof
Which presently ceased to be waterproof.
If the drawers were pulled out from bedroom chests
And you couldn't find one of your winter vests.
Or after supper one of the girls
Suddenly missed her Woolworth pearls . . .

Then the family would say, "It's that horrible cat! It was Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer!"
And most of the time, they left it at that.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had an unusual gift of gab.
They were highly efficient cat burgulars as well
And remarkably smart at a smash and grab.
They made their home in Victoria Grove.
They had no regular occupation.
They were plausible fellows who liked to engage
A friendly policeman in conversation.

When the family assembled for Sunday dinner,
Their minds made up that they wouldn't get thinner on
Argentine joint, potatoes and greens
Then the cook would appear from behind the scenes.
And say in a voice that was broken with sorrow,
"I'm afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow.
The joint has gone from the oven like that!"

Then the family would say, "It's that horrible cat! It was Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer!"
And most of the time they left it at that.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer had a wonderful way
Of working together.
And some of the time you would say it was luck
And some of the time you would say it was weather.
They'd go through the house like a hurricane
And no sober person could take his oath.
Was it Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer?
Or could you have sworn that it mightn't be both?
When you heard a dining room smash
Or up from the pantry there came a loud crash.
Or down from the library came a loud ping
From a vase which was commonly said to be Ming.
Then the family would say, "Now which was which cat?
It was Mungojerrie or Rumpleteazer.
And there's nothing at all to be done about that!"

Old Deuteronomy

I believe it is Old Deuteronomy.

Well, of all things can it be really? No! Yes! Ho! Hi! Oh, my eye!
My mind may be wandering, but I confess
I believe it is Old Deuteronomy.

Old Deuteronomy's lived a long time.
He's a cat who has lived many lives in succession.
He was famous in proverb and famous in rhyme
A long while before Queen Victoria's accession.
Old Deuteronomy's buried nine wives
And more I am tempted to say ninety-nine.
And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives
And the village is proud of him in his decline.
At the sight of that placid and bland physiognomy
When he sits in the sun on the vicarage wall,
The oldest inhabitant croaks.

Well, of all things can it be really?
No! Yes! Ho! Hi! Oh, my eye!
My mind may be wandering, but I confess
I believe it is Old Deuteronomy.

Well, of all things can it be really?
No! Yes! Ho! Hi! Oh, my eye!
My legs may be tottery, I must go slow
And be careful of Old Deuteronomy.

The Jellicle Ball

Jellicle Cats come out tonight.
Jellicle Cats come one, come all.
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle Cats are black and white.
Jellicle Cats are rather small.
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright.
And pleasant to hear when we caterwaul.

Jellicle Cats have cheerful faces.
Jellicle cats have bright black eyes.
We like to practice our airs and graces
And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.

Jellicle Cats develop slowly.
Jellicle cats are not too big.
Jellicle cats are roly-poly.
We know how to dance a Gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears,
Make our toilette and take our repose.
Jellicles wash behind their ears.
Jellicles dry between their toes.

Jellicle cats are black and white.
Jellicle cats are of moderate size.
Jellicles jump like a jumping jack.
Jellicle cats have moonlit eyes.

We're quiet enough in the morning hours.
We're quiet enough in the afternoon.
Reserving our terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.

Jellicle cats are black and white.
Jellicle cats (as we said) are small.
If it happens to be a stormy night,
We will practice a caper or two in the hall.

If it happens the sun is shining bright,
You would say we had nothing to do at all.
We are resting and saving ourselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.

Jellicle cats come out tonight.
Jellicle cats come one, come all.
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright.
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.

Grizabella

You see the border of her coat
Is torn and stained with sand.
And you see the corner of her eye twist
Like a crooked pin.

Silence . . . not a sound from the pavement.
Has the moon lost her memory? She is smiling alone.
In the lamplight the withered leaves collect at my feet
And the wind begins to moan.

Every streetlamp seems to beat a fatalistic warning.
Someone mutters and the streetlamp gutters
And soon it will be morning.

Memory . . . all alone in the moonlight.
I can smile at the old days.
I was beautiful then.
I remember the time I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again . . .

Moments of Happiness

We had the experience, but missed the meaning.
And approach to the meaning restores the experience.
In a different form beyond any meaning,
We can assign to happiness.
The past experience revived in the meaning
Is not the experience of one life only,
But of many generations.
Not forgetting something that is probably quite ineffable.

Moonlight
Turn your face to the moonlight.
Let your memory lead you.
Open up, enter in.
If you find there the meaning of what happiness is,
Then a new life will begin.

Gus the Theatre Cat

Gus is the cat at the theatre door.
His name, as I ought to have told you before
Is really Asparagus, and 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 paw shake.
Yet he was in his youth quite the Smartest of Cats,
But no longer a terror to mice or 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 their club
(Which takes place at the back of the neighboring 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's acted with Tree.
And he likes to relate his success on the halls
Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls,
But his greatest 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 extemporize backchat, 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.
They never get drilled in a regular troupe
And they think they are smart just to jump through a hoop.

And he says as he scratches himself with his claws.
Well, theatre is certainly not what is was.
These modern productions are all very well,
But there's nothing to equal from what I hear tell.
That moment of mystery when I made history
As Firefrorefiddle, the Fiend of the Fell.

I once crossed the stage ona telegraph wire
To rescue a child when a house was on fire.
And I once played Growltiger.
Could do it again . . . could do it again . . .
Could do it again . . .

Growltiger's Last Stand

Growltiger was a bravo cat who travelled on a barge.
In fact, he was the roughest cat that ever roamed at large.
From Gravesend up to Oxford, he pursued his evil aims.
Rejoicing in his title of the 'Terror of the Thames.'

His manners and appearance did not calculate to please.
His coat was torn and seedy, it was baggy at the knees.
One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why.
And he scowled upon a hostile world from one forbidding eye.

The cottagers of Rotherhithe knew something of his fame.
At Hammersmith and Putney, people shuddered at his name.
They would fortify the hen house, lock up the silly goose
When the rumor ran along the shore: Growltiger's on the loose!

Woe to the weak canary that fluttered from its cage,
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger's rage,
Woe to the bristly bandicoot that lurks on foreign ships,
And woe to any cat with whom Growltiger came to grips.

But most to cats of foreign race, his hatred had been vowed
To cats of foreign name and race, no quarter was allowed.
The Persian and the Siamese regarded him with fear.
Because it was a Siamese had mauled his missing ear.

Now On a peaceful summer night, all nature seemed at play.
Tender moon was shining bright, the barge at Molsey lay.
All in the balmy moonlight, it lay rocking on the tide.
And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side.

The forepeak of the vessel, Growltiger stood alone.
Concentrating my attention on the lady Griddlebone.
And my raffish crew were sleeping in their barrels and their bunks
As the Siamese came creeping in their sampans and their junks.

Growltiger had no eye or ear for aught, but Griddlebone,
And the lady seemed enraptured by my manly baritone.
Disposed to relaxation and awaiting no surprise,
But the moonlight shone reflected from a thousand bright blue eyes.

And closer still and closer the Sampans circled 'round.
And yet from all the enemy there was not heard a sound.'
The foe was armed with toasting forks and cruel carving knives.
And the lovers sang their last duet in danger of their lives.
Una tepida notte d'estate, allorche la natura
Eranel pieno fulgore, e la resca rugiada
Splendeva al chiar di luna sopra la verzura
Si poteva vedere il galeone ancorato
Oscillare in silenzio nel vento profumato
Dalla marea del naviglio serenamente cullato
In quella tepida notte che c'e dunque di male
Se in tnata poesia anche il pirata divento sentimentale?

Oscillare in silenzio nel vento profumato
Dalla marea do naviglio serenamente cullato
Quella tepida notte Quella tepida notteQuella tepida notte.

Then Genghis gave the signal to his fierce Mongolian hordes.
Abandoning their sampans, the chinks they swarmed aboard.
Abandoning their sampans, their pullaways, their junks.
They battened down the hatches on the crew within their bunks.

Then Griddlebone, she gave a screech for she was badly skeered.
I am sorry to admit it, but she quickly disappeared.
She Probably escaped with ease, I'm sure she was not drowned,
But a serried ring of flashing steel Growltiger did surround.

The ruthless foe pressed forward in stubborn rank on rank
Growltigert to his vast surprise, was forced to walk the plank.
He who a hundred victims had driven to that drop.
At the end of all his crimes was forced to go kerflip, kerflop.

There was joy in Wapping when the news flew through the land.
At Maidenhead and Henley there was dancing on the strand.
Rats were roasted whole in Brentford and Victoria Dock
And a day of celebration was commanded in Bangkok!

These modern productions are all very well,
But there's nothing to equal from what I hear tell.
That moment of mystery when I made history.

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat

Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat,
The cat of the railway train.
There's a whisper down the line at eleven thirty-nine
When the night mail's ready to depart.
Saying, "Skimble, where is Skimble?
Has he gone to hunt the thimble? We must find him or the train can't start!"

All the guards and all the porters and the stationmaster's daughters
Would be searching high and low
Saying, "Skimble, where is Skimble? For unless he's very nimble,
Then the night mail just can't go!"
At eleven forty-two with the signal overdue
And the passengers all frantic to a man,
That's when I would appear and I'd saunter to the rear.
I'd been busy in the luggage van!
Then gave one flash of his glass-green eyes
And the signal went "All clear!"
They'd be off at last for the northern part of the Northern Hemisphere!

Skimbleshanks, the railway cat, the cat of the railway train.
You might say that by and large it was me who was in charge
Of the Sleeping Car Express
From the driver and the guards to the bagmen playing cards,
I would supervise them all more or less.
Down the corridor he paces and examines all the faces
Of the travelers in the first and the third.
He established control by a regular patrol
And he'd know at once if anything occurred.
He would watch you without winking and he saw what you were thinking
And it's certain that he didn't approve.

Of hilarity and riot so that folk were very quiet
When Skimble was about and on the move.
You could play no pranks with Skimbleshanks's.
He's a cat that couldn't be ignored.
So nothing went wrong on the Northern Mail
When Skimbleshanks was aboard.

It was very pleasant when they'd foud their little den
With their name wrtten up on the door.
And the berth was very neat with a newly folded sheet on
And not a speck of dust on the floor.
There was every sort of light you make it dark or bright
And a button you could turn to make a breeze
And a funny little basin you'er supposed to wash your face in
And a crank to shut the window should you sneeze.
Then the guard looked in politely and would ask you very brightly,
"Do you like morning you morning tea weak or strong?"
But I was just behind him and was ready to remind him.
For Skimble won't let anything go wrong.
When they crept into their cozy berth and pulled the counterpane,
They ought to reflect that it was very nice
To know that they wouldn't be bothered by mice.
They can leave all that to the Railway Cat.
The cat of the railway train.

Skimbleshanks, the railway cat, the cat of the railway train.
In the watches of the night, I was always fresh and bright.
Every now and then I'd have a cup of tea
With perhaps a drop of scotch while I was busy keeping on the watch,
Only stopping here and there to catch a flea.
They were fast asleep at Crewe
And so they never knew that I was walking up and down the station.
They were sleeping all the while I was busy at Carlisle
Where I met the stationmaster with elation!

They might see me at Dumfries if I summoned the police
If there was anything they ought to know about.
When they got to Gallowgate, there they did not have to wait
For Skimbleshanks will help them to get out.
And he gives you a wave of his long brown tail
Which says, "I'll see you again."
You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail,
The cat of the railway train.

You'll meet without fail on the Midnight Mail,
The cat of the railway train.

Macavity

Macavity!

Macavity's a mystery cat, he's called the Hidden Paw
For he's a master criminal who can defy the law.
He's the bafflement of Scotland Yard, the Flying Squad's despair
For when they reach the scene of crime, Macavity's not there!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity.
He's broken every human law, he breaks the law of gravity.
His powers of levitation would make a fakir stare
And when you reach the scene of crime, Macavity's not there!
You may seek him in the basement, you may look up in the air,
But I tell you once and once again, Macavity's not there!

Macavity's a ginger cat, he's very tall and thin.
You'd know him if you saw him for his eyes are sunken in.
His brow is deeply lined in thought, his head is highly domed.
His coat is dusty from neglect, his whiskers are uncombed.
He sways his head from side to side with movements like a snake
And when you think he's half asleep, he's always wide awake!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity.
He's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square,
But when a crime's discovered then Macavity's not there!

He's outwardly respectable, I know he cheats at cards.
And his footprints are not found in any files of Scotland Yard's.
And when the larder's looted or the jewel case is rifled.
Or when the milk is missing or another Peke's been stifled,
Or the greenhouse glass is broken and the trellis past repair,
There's the wonder of the thing: Macavity's not there!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity.
There never was a cat of such deceitfulness and suavity.
He always has an alibi, and one or two to spare.
Whatever time the deeed took place, Macavity wasn't there!

And they say that all the cats whose wicked deeds are widely known.
I might mention Mungojerrie, I might mention Griddlebone
Are nothing more than agents for the cat who all the time.
Just controls the operations: the Napoleon of Crime!

Macavity, Macavity, there's no one like Macavity. He's a fiend in feline shape, a monster of depravity.
You may meet him in a by-street, you may see him in the square,
But when a crime's discovered then Macavity . . .
Macavity . . .
Macavity . . .
Macavity . . .
When a crime's discovered then Macavity's not there!

Macavity's not there!
We have to find Old Deuteronomy . . .

Mr. Mistoffelees

You ought ask Mr. Mistoffelees,
The greatest magicians have something to learn
From Mr. Mistoffolees Conjuring Turn.

And you'll all say:
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?

He is quiet, he is small, he is black
From the ears to the tip of his tail.
He can creep through the tiniest crack,
He can walk on the narrowest rail.
He can pick any card from a pack,
He is equally cunning with dice.
He is always deceiving you into believing
That he's only hunting for mice.

He can play any trick with a cork
Or a spoon and a bit of fish paste.
And if you look for a knife or a fork
And you think it is merely misplaced.
You have seen it one moment and then it is gone!
But you find it next week lying on the lawn.

My manner is vague and aloof.
You would think there was nobody shyer,
But voice has been heard on the roof
When I was curled up by the fire
And have sometimes been heard by the fire
When I was about on the roof.
At least they all heard that somebody purred
Which is uncontestable proof of my singular magical powers
And I've known the family to call me in from the garden for hours
While I was asleep in the hall.

And not long ago, this phenomenal cat
Produced seven kittens right out of a hat!

And we all say:
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
And not long ago, this phenomenal cat
Produced seven kittens right out of a hat!

And we all say:
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?
Oh! Well, I never! Was there ever a cat so clever as magical Mr. Mistoffolees?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the magical Mr. Mistoffolees!

Memory

Daylight, see the dew on the sunflower
And a rose that is fading.
Roses wither away.
Like the sunflower I yearn to turn my face to the dawn.
I am waiting for the day.

Now Old Deuteronomy, just before dawn
Through a silence you feel you could cut with a knife,
Announces the cat who can now be reborn
And come back to a different Jellicle Life.

Memory, turn your face to the moonlight.
Let your memory lead you.
Open up, enter in
And if you find there the meaning of what happiness is,
Then a new life will begin.

Memory, all alone in the moonlight.
I can smile at the old days.
I was beautiful then.
I remember the time I knew what happiness was.
Let the memory live again.

Burnt out ends of smokey days.
The stale cold smell of morning.
The streetlamp dies, another night is over and
Another day is dawning.

Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise.
I must think of a new life
And I mustn't give in.
When the dawn comes,
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin.

Sunlight, through the trees in the summer.
Endless masquerading
Like a flower as the dawn is breaking.
The memory is fading.

Touch me, it's so easy to leave me.
All alone with the memory of my days in the sun.
If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is.
Look, a new day has begun.

Memory II version

Midnight
Not a sound from the pavement
Has the moon lost her memory?
She is smiling alone
In the lamplight
The withered leaves collect at my feet
And the wind begins to moan

Memory
All alone in the moonlight
I can smile at the old days
I was beautiful then
I remember a time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again

Every streetlamp seems to beat
A fatalistic warning
Someone mutters in the streetlamp gutters
And soon it will be morning

Daylight
I must wait for the sunrise
I must think of a new life
And I musn't give in
When the dawn comes
Tonight will be a memory too
And a new day will begin

Burnt out ends of smokey days
The stale, cold smell of morning
The streetlamp dies
Another night is over
Another day is dawning

Touch me
It's so easy to leave me
All alone with the memory
Of my days in the sun
If you touch me
You'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new day has begun

The Journey to the Heaviside Layer

Up, up, up past the Russell Hotel.
Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer.
Up, up, up past the Russell Hotel.
Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer.
Up, up, up past the Russell Hotel.
Up up up up to the Heaviside Layer.

Up, up, up past the Russell Hotel.
Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside layer.
Up, up, up past the Jellicle Moon.
Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer.
Up, up, up past the Jellicle moon.
Up, up, up, up to the Heaviside Layer.

The mystical divinity of unashamed felinity.
Round the cathedral rang 'Vivat'.
Life to the everlasting cat!

The Ad-dressing of Cats

You've heard of several kinds of cat
And my opinion now is that
You should need no interpreter to understand our character.
You've learned enough to take the view
That cats are very much like you.
You've seen us both at work and games
And learnt about our proper names,
Our habits and habitat,
But how would you ad-dress a cat?

So first, your memory I'll jog.
And say: a cat is not a dog.
So first, your memory I'll jog.
And say: a cat is not a dog.

With cats, some say one rule is true:
Don't speak 'til you are spoken to.
Myself, I do not hold with that.
I say you should ad-dress a cat,
But always bear in mind that he resents familiarity.
You bow, and taking off your hat, ad-dress him in this form, "O' Cat!"

Before a cat will condescend
To treat you as a trusted friend,
A little token of esteem is needed like a dish of cream.
And you might now and then supply
Some caviar or Straussburg pie.
Some potted grouse or salmon paste.
He's sure to have his personal taste.
And so in time you reach your aim
And call him by his name.

A cat's entitled to expect
These evidences of respect.
So this is this and that is that.
And there's how you ad-dress a cat.