| lyric | Grizabella, bella, the glamour cat.
She haunted many a low resort
near the grimmmy road of Tott’ham Court;
She flitted about the Noman’s Land
from The Rising Sun to The Friend at Hand.
And the postman sighed, as he scratched his head:
„You’d really have thought she ought to be dead,
and who would ever suppose that,
was Grizabella, the glamour cat. |