Chords for The Battle of Pekes and the Pollicles Part 1 | Cats the Musical

[D] Jellicle cats meet once a year on the night we make the [G] Jellicle choice.
_ And now that the Jellicle [Dm] leader is here, _ [G] Jellicle cats can all _ _ rejoice!
_ _ _ [A] _ _ [E] _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ [A] _
_ _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [Am] _ Of the awful battle of the [F] Peaks [G] and the [F] Pollicles, _ _ _
Together _ with some account of the _ _ [Eb] participation of the Pugs and the Poms,
[F] And the _ _ [Dbm] _ intervention _ of the _ great _ _ _ _ _ [E] Rumpus Cat. _
_ _ _ _ _ [Fm] _ _ _
The Peaks and the Pollicles everyone knows,
Are proud and implacable [F] passionate foes.
It is always the same wherever [Fm] one goes,
And the [Gb] Pugs and the Poms, although most people say,
That they do not like [F] fighting yet once in a way,
They now and again join into the fray,
And [E] they bark, _ bark, [Db] bark, _ _ _ _ [B] until you can hear [F] them all over the park.
Now on the occasion of which [Fm] I shall speak,
Almost nothing had happened for nearly a week,
[Cm] And that's a long time for a [F] paw or a peek.
The big police dog [Fm] was away from his beat,
I don't know the reason, but most people think,
He slipped into the Wellington Arms for a drink.
_ _ And no [Eb] one at all was about [Db] on the street,
When [Gb] a Peak and a Pollicle _ [Fm] happened to meet. _ _
_ _ _ [Bm] _ _ _ _ [F] _
_ _ _ _ They [Bbm] did not [Eb] advance or [Ab] exactly [Db] retreat,
But they [Gbm] glared at each [C] other and [Fm] scraped their hind feet,
_ [C] And started to bark, [Fm] bark, bark, _
_ _ _ _ [B] until you could [Cm] hear them all over the [F] park.
And today, bark, bark, bark, _ _ [Ab] _ _ _ [B] until you could hear them all over the [Fm] park.
Now the Peak, although people may say what they please,
Is no British dog, but a heathen Chinese.
And so all the Peaks, when they heard the uproar,
Some came to the window, some came to the door,
There were surely a [C] dozen, more likely a [Bb] score,
And together they started to grumble and wheeze,
In their huffery-snuffery, [F] heathen Chinese.
But a terrible din is what Pollicles like,
For your Pollicle dog is a doryuk shortyke.
[Bb] _ _ _ _ _ There are folks on a man-precation,
The Irish don't bother with [F] pain,
No [Ab] question they're destined to [Eb] amazement,
[Bb] And these are folks I never would say,
_ But I'm sure they'll love from the out-station,
And they'll last if you go for the take.
[Dm] And to those [Bb] that are frisky and frolical,
Let my meaning be perfectly plain,
That my name is Elizabeth of Bolivar,
And you'll [Ab] do it [Bb] again.
And his [Fm] bro-Scottish cousins are snappers and biters,
And every dog-jack of them loathed were biters,
And so they stepped out with their [F] papers in order,
Playing when the blue bonnets come over the border.
[Bb] _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ Then [F] the pugs in the palms held no longer a loof,
But some from the balconies, some from the roof,
[C] Joined into the din with a
[Eb]
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,
_ [B] _ _
Until you could hear them all over [F] the park. _
_ _ _ _ [Fm] _ _ _ [Bb] _
Until you could hear them all over the [Fm] park.
_ _ [C] _ _ _ _ [D] _ _
_ _ _ _ [F] _ _ [E] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [G] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [D] _ _ _
Not [Em] all _ very [D]
well,
_ _ But there's [G] nothing _ to be equal. _ _ _ _