Oh!
Miaow?
Purr!
Ah.
Miaow, miaow, miaow
Miaow
Tabby McTat was a busker's cat
with a miaow that was loud and strong.
Miaow
The two of them sang of this and that,
and people threw coins in the old checked hat,
and this was their favourite song.
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly, perfectly happy we are
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly happy we are Miaow...
Purrr.
Miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly happy we are
Miaow?
Miaow?
There you are.
One morning, while Fred ate some bacon and bread,
McTat took a stroll round the block.
Then stopped - for there on a doormat sat
a gorgeously glossy and green-eyed cat.
She was black, with one snowy white sock.
Sock and McTat had a cat to cat chat.
And that's how their story began.
For while they were chatting of this and of that,
a thief had his eye on the old checked hat.
He eyed it.
He snatched it.
He ran!
I saw the whole chase.
He tripped on a lace, and crash! In a flash, he was down.
He's broken his leg and he's banged his head.
And he ended up in a hospital bed
in a far away part of town.
"Goodbye." McTat said.
"I must get back to Fred."
But where had the busker gone?
Miaow?
The sun went down and the sky grew black.
The stars came out.
But he didn't come back.
McTat lingered on and on.
Miaow!
A week later, Sock took a stroll round the block.
Miaow? Hmm?
And found her new friend looking thin.
"He's gone off and left me."
Said Tabby McTat.
Then Sock said...
"My people, Prunella and Pat,
"would gladly find room for a fine tabby cat."
Miaow?
Oh!
Poor darling.
We must take him in!
Next morning, old Fred left his hospital bed
and found his way back to the square.
But a brass band stood where the pair once sat.
And the band played this...
..and the band played that...
..and Fred looked all round for his loud-miaowed cat.
But Tabby McTat wasn't there!
Me, you...
Now McTat had a wife and a very full life
with plenty of things to do.
Ooh!
Like washing Prunella and pouncing on Pat.
Oh! Miaow.
And hiding the car keys under the mat!
Miaow!
And keeping the newspapers nice and flat.
And giving the pens an occasional bat.
And nibbling this...
..and nibbling that.
Oh!
But he dreamed of his friend with the old checked hat,
and always woke up with a...
Miaow!
And often he said...
"What's happened to Fred?"
And his paws took him back to the square.
But a conjuror stood where the pair once sat.
And he pulled out this,
and he pulled out that.
And people threw coins in the tall black hat,
but the busker was never there.
One morning Sock said...
"Look under the bed and see the three kittens I've had."
Soames looks like this,
and Susan like that.
And our littlest kitten... Miaow!
..called Samuel Sprat, looks exactly the same as his dad.
Mew!
The three kittens grew and they learned how to... Mew!
And McTat sometimes sang them his song.
Miaow, miaow, miaow...
Samuel Sprat, with his tabby grey fur,
has a deafening miaow and a very loud purr.
And he simply loved singing along.
Me, you and the old guitar
How perfectly, perfectly happy we are
Me...
You!
And the old guitar
How perfectly happy we are
When Susan and Soames found very good homes,
their parents were happy and proud.
There was one home like this,
and another like that.
But nobody wanted poor Samuel Sprat.
They all said his voice is too loud.
Miaow!
Now, Tabby McTat was a home-loving cat,
but he couldn't stop dreaming of Fred.
And one day, he called for his wife and his son.
And he told them...
"There's something that has to be done.
"I must go and find him..."
..he said.
So up and down and all over town,
he wandered a whole week long.
For many a morning and afternoon,
by the light of the sun and the light of the moon.
Till he heard a familiar song.
Just me and the old guitar
If I had a cat I'd be happier far
Just me...and the old guitar
With my cat I'd be happier far
Miaow!
Miaow!
It's Tabby McTat!
It's my long lost cat!
Old Fred was ecstatically glad.
The two of them sang of this and that,
and people threw coins in the new checked hat.
Miaow.
Psst!
But why did McTat feel sad?
He was missing his wife and his comfortable life
and the dozens of things to do.
Like washing Prunella,
and pouncing on Pat
and hiding the car keys under the mat.
Ahem!
And keeping the newspapers nice and flat,
and giving the pens an occasional bat.
But how could he tell the busker that?
Miaow.
Huh?
Oh.
Miaow!
Miaow.
Aw.
Oh!
Miaow.
Then out from a shadow sprang Samuel Sprat.
Oh, please let ME be the busker's cat!
He said with his deafening... Mew!
Oh!
Oh!
Miaow!
Now Samuel Sprat is the busker's cat,
with a miaow that is loud and strong.
Miaow, miaow, miaow...
The two of them sing of this and that...
Though Samuel sings just a little bit flat.
And people throw coins in the old checked hat.
And this is their favourite song.
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly, perfectly happy we are
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly happy we are
Miaow, miaow, miaow
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly, perfectly happy we are
Me, you and the old guitar
Miaow, miaow, miaow
How perfectly happy we are
Miaow, miaow, miaow
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