Musicals – Cats: Growltiger’s Last Stand And The Ballad Of Billy McCaw lyrics

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”! GRUMBUSKIN:
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! (DANCE — SIAMESE)

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 GROWLTIGER:
Ahhhhh!!! Clark, he was very polite

A very nice house, from basement to garret
A very nice house. Ha ha ha ha! Come give us a tune on your moley guitar

Ah! Ha ha ha ha! Come give us a tune on your moley guitar!”
And Billy’d strike up on his moley guitar
And Billy’d strike up on his moley guitar
And then we’d feel balmy, in each eye a tear
And emotion would make us all order more beer

Billy, Billy McCaw! Of a Saturday night, we was all feeling bright
And Lily La Rose — the barmaid that was —
She’d say, “Billy, Billy McCaw! He was the life of the bar. Gilbert:
Then Gilbert gave the signal to his fierce Mongolian hordes
With a frightful burst of fireworks, the chinks they swarmed aboard

Then Griddlebone she gave a screech for she was badly skeered
I’m 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
Growltiger 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 ker-flip, ker-flop! CHORUS:
Oh 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! Ah, but it was the parrot–
The parrot, the parrot named Billy McCaw
That brought all those folks to the bar
Ah! Come give us, come give us a dance on the bar!”
And Billy would dance on the bar
And Billy would dance on the bar
And then we’d feel balmy, in each eye a tear
And emotion would make us all order more beer

Lily, she was a girl what had brains in her head
She wouldn’t have nothing, no not that much said
If it come to an argument or a dispute
She’d settle it offhand with the toe of her boot
Or as likely as not put a fist through your eye
Or when we was happy and just a bit dry
Or when we was thirsty and just a bit sad,
She would rap on the bar with that corkscrew she had
And say,

“Billy, Billy McCaw! SOLOS:
Woe to the weak canary that fluttered from its cage
Woe to the pampered Pekinese, that faced Growltiger’s rage
Woe 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
The tender moon was shining bright, the barge at Molesey lay

All in the balmy moonlight it lay rocking on the tide
And Growltiger was disposed to show his sentimental side

Growltiger’s bucko mate, Grumbuskin, long since had disappeared
For to the bell at Hampton he had gone to wet his beard

And his bosun, Tumblebrutus, he too had stol’n away
In the yard behind the lion he was prowling for his prey

In the forepeak of the vessel, Growltiger sat alone

Concentrating his attention on the lady Griddlebone

And his 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 his 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

Oh, how well I remember the Old Bull and Bush
Where we used to go down of a Saturday night
Where, when anything happened, it come with a rush
For the boss, Mr. He was the life of the bar. GROWLTIGER:
“Come give us a tune on your pastoral flute!”
And Billy’d strike up on his pastoral flute

And Billy’d strike up on his pastoral flute

And then we’d feel balmy, in each eye a tear
And emotion would make us all order more beer

“Billy, Billy McCaw!