The Year Of The Cat-Live / Al Stewart

Contemplating a crime

You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre

Year of the cat

The year of the cat

Like a watercolor in the rain

On a morning from a Bogart movie

But the drum-beat strains of the night remain

Don't bother asking for explanations

Just like a river running through

So you take her, to find what's waiting inside

And you've thrown away your choice you've lost your ticket

She comes in incense and patchouli

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls

The year of the CLIIP

In the year of the cat

She doesn't give you time for questions

As she locks up your arm in hers

And you follow 'till your sense of which direction

Completely disappears

There's a hidden door she leads you to

While she looks at you so cooly

And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea

And the bus and the tourists are gone

So you have to stay on

She'll just tell you that she came