Remark the cat, who hesitates towards you
In the light of the door which opens on her like a grin
You see the the border of her coat is torn, and stained with sand
And you see the corner of her eye twist, like a crooked pin
She haunted many a low resort
Near the grimy road of Tottenham Court
She flitted about the no mans land
From the "Rising Sun" to "The Friend at Hand"
And the postman sighed as he scratched hos head
"You'd really have thuoght she'd ought to be dead"
But who'd have ever supposed that that
Was Grizabella the Glamour Cat
Was Grizabella the Glamour Cat
Was Grizabella the Glamour Cat
Who'd have ever supposed that that
Was Grizabella the Glamour Cat