Puss in Boots

Now somewhere way up Arthur Road there’s a lady with a pussy

That took a shine to Arkwright, I guess it wasn’t fussy.

He liked to stroke and pamper it, and loved to make it purr

And it took all he could offer, then went back home to her.

When that pussy first went missing old Ark was in a fix

And with his wife Vanessa they searched Sheffield Thirty-Six

When he heard where it was sleeping it almost made him crack

And he quickly marched up Arthur Road to get the fucker back!

A crowd was soon assembled and they broke out in applause

When he shouted through her letter box “That pussy isn’t yours!”

“It’s mine and it’s Vanessa’s, it isn’t yours instead.”

“We’ve bought two tins of Whiskas and a bastard pussy bed!”

Her bedroom window opened and she called out to the crowd

“He’s come to get my pussy and it’s really not allowed!”

“I can’t even let it out at night.  It’s way beyond a joke”

“It’s just so young and friendly and it can’t resist a stroke!”

Now Arkwright was beside himself, he wasn’t satisfied.

So he shouted to that lady, “Lets let the cat decide!”

He thought it was a masterstroke, that he’d been really clever

And just to see the back of them the lady said “Whatever”

He said to me the other day “She’s playing us for fools”

“That puss can’t make its mind up if she won’t play by the rules”

So now he’s on a mission, he’s putting up a fight.

And he sneaks around the neighbourhood in the dead of night

He’s been up to the warehouse; he’s got himself a net

And if you don’t believe me then we can have a bet

He’s going to get that pussy back, on that you can depend

It’s Operation Arkwright for a little furry friend.

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