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