Crimean Tom

A song about a hero cat from 1855

A Sevastopol cellar we searched through the dust,

While our stomachs and mouths grumbled on,

But in lieu of supplies, William Gair found the eyes of a cat,

So he brought him along.


Well the city was bare, near a year we’d been there,

And the flesh seemed picked clean off it’s bones,

And except for the cat, we were lean,

But his fat meant that he had a secret to show.


And we sang “Three cheers for Tom!

God knows where he’s from,

But we’re marching for our chaperon.

And the whole Black Sea Fleet

Couldn’t take him from me,

Cause Crimean Tom’s one of our own.”


So one night we followed as Tom lead the way,

Past a mountain of rubble and ash,

Once we found a way through, there were fatty mice too,

And Tom chased them right up to a cache.


And we sang “Three cheers for Tom!

God knows where he’s from,

But we’d all perish out here alone.

So if the Tsar wants him gone,

He can take us all on,

Cause Crimean Tom’s one of our own.”


Tom found more supplies,

As he and we followed the mice,

Through the docks of Sevastopol,

Tom had kept us alive.


When the guns were laid down and the cannons brought home,

Well we couldn’t just leave Tom behind,

We brought him back here, but before the New Year,

Tom had drifted to sleep one last time.


So we sing “Three cheers for Tom,

God knows where he came from,

But we thank him for bringing us home.

So we’ll all raise a glass,

To a hell of a cat,

Crimean Tom’s one of our own.

Yes we’ll all raise a glass,

To a hell of a cat,

Crimean Tom’s one of our own.”


 

Author: wtfranjo

My name is Franjo. And I will be a Football Manager.

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