Donald Fagen Follow

High above Manhattan townWhat floats and has a shape like
thatFans like us who watch the skiesWe know
it's Morph the CatGliding like a big blue
cloudFrom Tomkins Square to Upper BroadwayBeyond the
park to Sugar HillStops a minute for a latteHe
oozes down the heating ductSwims like seaweed down the
hallHe briefly digs your wiggy padAnd seeps out
through the wallIt's kind of like an arctic
mindbathCool and sweet and slightly roughLiquid
light on New York CityLike Christmas without the chintzy
stuffWhat exactly does he wantThis Rabelaisian
puff of smokeTo make you feel all warm and cozyLike
you heard a good jokeLike you heard an Arlen tuneOr you bought yourself a crazy hatLike you had a Mango
CoolerOoh - Morph the CatHe's all the
talk in shops and schoolyardsSultan Place - the AutomatPlayers playin' in da BronxRespects to Morph the
CatIt's kind of like an arctic mindbathCool and sweet and slightly roughLiquid light on New
York CityLike Christmas without the chintzy stuffSo rich is his charismaYou can almost hear it singHe skims the roofsAnd bells begin to ringChinese cashiers can feel it nowGrand old gals at
evening massYoung racketeersAnd teenage modelsLaughing on the grassBlessed Yankees have an
allyWhen this feline comes to batBringing joy to old
ManhattanAll watch the skies for Morph the Cat