quinta-feira, 20 de dezembro de 2012

On a morning from a Bogart movie In a country where they turn back time - Year Of The Cat

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
I know sometimes you're bound to leave her


But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat



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