The Cat With The Silvery Paws

Roads, these roads are clad in smoke
Your talks are drifting past like trains — they scarcely stop
Now I’m gone astray in here
Where tired walls are chattering: Don’t stay! Don’t stay!
… and all the ones around me are fainting shapes again
Fear has shut away your dreams
You walk towards a smokescreen, fretful tool
I start to sing a song about the cat with the silvery paws
She plays with starry blades of grass and dreams her little life away
I wonder where I am — under the snow in a sunday cloak
But you just say I’d think too much
Maybe you’re right — who will ever know?