Bustopher Jones (song)

Bustopher Jones is the St James' Street Cat - an area of London which features many upper class clubs. Bustopher is a bounder - he "belongs" to multiple clubs and presumably is fed by all of them. His song is primarily sung by Jennyanydots, who is clearly very fond of him.

Context
The score notes the beginning of the song is to be played "A little tentative, as if the orchestra is changing subject" to reflect the mood change from Grizabella's exit. Bustopher Jones makes his way onto the stage, greeted with respect and gratitude from the male cats, including Quaxo, Skimbleshanks, and Munkustrap, while the rest gaze in pleasure and admiration. Many of the females, particularly Bomabalurina and Etcetra, express surprise or worry for his appearance and reputation. He is well respected and revered throughout the tribe, noted for his upper class status, club memberships, and white spats.

Lyrics
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 he walks down the street In his coat of fastidious black- No commonplace 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. For a similar reason, when game is in season I'm found, not at Fox's, but Blimp's; I am frequently seen at the gay Stage and Screen Which is famous for winkles and shrimps. In the season of venison I give my ben'son To the Pothunter's succulent bones; And just before noon's not a moment too soon To drop in for a drink at the Drones. When I'm seen in a hurry there's probably curry At the Siamese - or at the Glutton; If 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!