Lyrics:

On a morning from a Bogart movie**lf**In a country where they turn back time**lf**You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre**lf**Contemplating a crime**lf**She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running**lf**Like a watercolor in the rain**lf**Don''t bother asking for explanations**lf**She''ll just tell you that she came**lf**In the Year of the Cat**lf****lf**She doesn''t give you time for questions**lf**As she locks up your arm in hers**lf**And you follow ''till your sense of which direction**lf**Completely disappears**lf**By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls**lf**There''s a hidden door she leads you to**lf**These days, she says, I feel my life**lf**Just like a river running through**lf**The Year of the Cat**lf****lf**Well She looks at you so coolly**lf**And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea**lf**She comes in Incense and Patchouli**lf**So you take her, to find what''s waiting inside**lf**The Year of the Cat**lf****lf****lf****lf**Well morning comes and you''re still with her**lf**And the bus and the tourists are gone**lf**And you''ve thrown away your choice and lost your ticket**lf**So you have to stay on**lf**But the drum-beat strains of the night remain**lf**In the rhythm of the new-born day**lf**You know sometime you''re bound to leave her**lf**But for now you''re going to stay**lf**In the Year of the Cat