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    The Year of the Cat - Open Mic


    by XenagogueVicene

    The Best of the Bar Bands.

    On a morning from a Bogart movie
    In a country where they turn back time
    You come strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
    Contemplating a crime
    She comes out of the sun in a silk dressing running
    Like a watercolor 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 'til 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."

    Oh, she looks at you so cooly
    And her eyes shine
    Like the moon and the sea
    She comes in incense and patchouli
    So you take her
    To find what's waiting inside
    The Year of the Cat

    The morning comes and you're still with her
    And the bus and the tourists have gone
    And you've thrown away your choice
    And lost your ticket
    So you'll have to stay on
    But the drumbeat strains of the night remain
    In the rhythm of the newborn day
    You know sometime you're bound to leave her
    But, for now you're going to stay
    In the Year of the Cat