On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like
Peter Lorre contemplating a crime
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress
Running like a watercolour
in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
in the year of cat
She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your eyes and hers
And you follow till your sense of
which direction completely disappears
By the blue-tiled walls near the market
stalls There's a hidden door she leads you to
She says,
I feel my life just like a river running through the year of the cat
Well,
she looks at you so coolly
And her eyes shine like the moon and the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli So you take her
to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat
One morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drumbeat strains of the night remain
And the rhythm of the new born day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're gonna stay
In the year of the cat
In the year of the cat