My life was like a London fog—
What d'ye think of that, my Cat?
What d'ye think of that, my Dog?
My Susan's taste was superfine,
As proved by bills that had no end—
I never had a decent coat—
I never had a coin to spend!
She forced me to resign my Club,
Lay down my pipe, retrench my grog—
What d'ye think of that, my Cat?