On a morn-ing from a Bo-gart mov - ie,
in a coun-try where they turned back time, __
you go stroll-ing through the crowd like 
Pe-ter Lor-re con-tem-plat-ing a crime.
She comes out of the sun__ in a silk__ dress,
run - ning like a wa-ter-col-or  in the rain.
Don't both-er ask-ing for ex-plan-a-tions.
She'll just tell you that she came
in the year of the cat.____

She does-n't give you time for ques-tions
as she locks up your_ arm in hers.__
And you fol-low till your sense of 
which di-rec-tion__ com-plete-ly dis-ap-pears.
By the blue - tiled _ walls_ near the mar - ket
stalls, _____there's a hid-den door she leads you to.
"These days," she says, _ "I feel my life 
just like a riv - er run-ning through
the year of the cat."____ 

Well, she looks  at  you___ so cool - ly
and her eyes shine   like the moon in the sea.__
She comes in  in-cense and patch-ou-li. 
So you take her    to find what's wait - ing in-side___
the year of the cat.____

Well, morn-ing comes and you're still with_ her
and the bus and the__ tour-ists are gone.
And you've thrown a - way your choice and 
lost your tick-et so you have to stay on.__
But the drum-beat_ strains_ of the night__
re  main__ in the__ rhy-thm of the new-born day.
You know some-time__ you're bound to leave her,
but for now you're gon-na stay
in the year of the cat.____
in the year of the cat.____________

Words and Music by Ian Alastir Steward
and Peter Wood