The Best of the Bar Bands. <br /><br />On a morning from a Bogart movie <br />In a country where they turn back time <br />You come strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre <br />Contemplating a crime <br />She comes out of the sun in a silk dressing running <br />Like a watercolor in the rain <br />Don't bother asking for explanations <br />She'll just tell you that she came <br />In the Year of the Cat <br /><br />She doesn't give you time for questions <br />As she locks up your arm in hers <br />And you follow 'til your sense of which direction <br />Completely disappears <br />By the blue-tiled walls near the market stalls <br />There's a hidden door she leads you to <br />"These days," she says, "I feel my life just like a river running through <br />The Year of the Cat." <br /><br />Oh, she looks at you so cooly <br />And her eyes shine <br />Like the moon and the sea <br />She comes in incense and patchouli <br />So you take her <br />To find what's waiting inside <br />The Year of the Cat <br /><br />The morning comes and you're still with her <br />And the bus and the tourists have gone <br />And you've thrown away your choice <br />And lost your ticket <br />So you'll have to stay on <br />But the drumbeat strains of the night remain <br />In the rhythm of the newborn day <br />You know sometime you're bound to leave her <br />But, for now you're going to stay <br />In the Year of the Cat
