Year of the Cat - Al Stewart, Peter Wood

    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 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
    By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
    There's a hidden door she leads you to
    These days, she says, I feel my life
    Just like a river running through
    The year of the cat

    Well, she looks at you so cooly
    And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
    She comes in incense and patchouli
    So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
    The year of the cat

    Well, morning comes and you're still with her
    And the bus and the tourists are gone
    And you've thrown away the choice and lost your ticket
    So you have to stay on
    But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
    In the rhythm of the new-born day
    You know sometime you're bound to leave her
    But for now you're going to stay
    In the year of the cat
     

    Disk

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words