I'm active, and I take a stroll on river banks each morning
While other folks are yawning, the workman's tramcar scorning
This morn I watched the tide recede, I heard a pussy purr
'Mee-ow, mee-ow' a poor lone cat, my heart it bled for her.

Chorus: Poor thing, poor thing
With mute affection it seemed to cling
Well, it quite upset my liver
For I'd nothing much to give her
So I slung her in the river, poor thing.

I'm guilty, I'm a married man, but still not quite a martyr
My wife is not a tartar, she's smart, but Harold's smarter
Last night I wined with college chums, had too much loving cup
I reached my flat at 4am, the wife was waiting up.

Chorus: Poor thing, poor thing
And I thought of when I placed the wedding ring
It was too bad to provoke her
And I didn't want to choke her
So I sloshed her with the poker, Poor thing.

I'm sorry, I'm soft hearted, but most all folks have a failing
I hate to see things ailing, and pass dumb creatures wailing
Last week, on my conservatory, I saw a bird you see
It's wing was hurt, and so I quoth 'Come dickey-bird to me.'

Chorus: Poor thing, poor thing
It seemed too long to be upon the wing
So with care indoors I took it
I'm humane, though I don't look it
And I told my wife to cook it, poor thing.

At Sheerness once upon a time, each year I fished and boated
And one bright morn I noted, a shemale porpoise floated
Quite near the shore it must have strayed from distant Arctic seas
We stuck some boat-hooks in her stern, amidst remarks like these.

Chorus: Poor thing, poor thing
All the people gathered round and made a ring
When at last to shore they got her
They were glad they hadn't shot her
It was fat old Mrs Potter, poor thing.
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