Andrew Lloyd Webber: Old Deuteronomy

I belive 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 belive 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 ninty - nine
And his numerous progeny prospers and thrives
And the villiage is pround 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 belive 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 belive 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 belive 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

Andrew Lloyd Webber: Gus The Theater Cat

Gus is the cat at the theater 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 successes on the halls
Where the gallery once gave him seven cat calls
But his greatest creation as he love 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 to act with my back and my tail
With and hour of rehersal, 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 run 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 did get drilled in a regular troup
And they think they are smart just to jump through a hoop

And he says as he scratches himself with his claws
Well the theater is certainly not what it 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 on a telegraph wire
To rescue a child when a house was on fire
And I think that I still can much better than most
Produce blood curdling noises to bring on the ghost
And I once played Growltiger
Could do it again, could do it again
Could do it again

Andrew Lloyd Webber: Midnight

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 the time I knew what happiness was
Let the memory live again

Every streetlamp seems to beat
A fatalistic warning
Someone mutters and the street lamp gutters
And soon
It will be morning

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

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 my memory
Of my days in the sun...
If you touch me, you'll understand what happiness is
Look, a new day has begun.