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Lyricist: Squeeze
Lyrics:
The Indians send signals from the rocks above the pass;
The cowboys take position in the bushes and the grass.
The squaw is with the corporal she is tied against a tree.
She doesnt mind the language; its the beatings she dont need.
She lets loose all the horses when the corporal is asleep,
And he wakes to find the fires dead and an arrows in his ass,
And Davy Crockett rides around and says its cool for cats.
Its cool for cats.
Cool for cats...
The Sweeney's doing ninety cause theyve got the word to go.
They get a gang of villans in a shed out by Heathrowe.
Theyre countin out the fivers when the handcuffs lock again.
In and out in one swift with the numbers on their names.
Its funny how the misses always looks the bleedin same.
And meanwhile, at the station, theres a couplea likely lads,
Who swear like hows-your-father, and theyre very cool for cats.
Theyre cool for cats.
To change the mood a little, Ive been posing round the pub.
I see in my reflection: Im looking slightly rough.
I fancy this; I fancy that. I want a piece of flesh.
I give a little muscle and I spend a little cash
But all I get is bitter and a nasty little rash.
And by the time Im sober, Ive forgotten what Ive had.
And everybody tells me that its cool to be a cat.
Cool for cats.
Cool for cats...
Shape up at the disco when I think Ive got her pulled.
I ask her lots of questions as she hangs on to the wall.
I kiss her for the first time and then I take her home.
Im invited in for coffee and I give the dog a bone.
She likes to go to discos, but shes never on her own.
I said, Ill see you later, and I give her some old chat,
But its not like that on the T.V. when its cool for cats,
Its cool for ca-a-a-ats.
Cool for cats...
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