A Cat in the Rain Songtext
von Turnpike Troubadours

With a midnight sky and your big brown eyes, did you stumble on a pearl?
Wake me from a thousand-meter stare
With a halo hanging just a little too heavy and another evening′s curls
Mixed up with the morning in your hair
Like a country girl who came across a cat out in the rain
Like a country girl, you played it true to form
Gonna lay a little pity on a prodigal son who parted with his name
A little shelter for a stray out in a storm

You can try to put the past behind
It's on your clothes like burning pine
Is it gin or turpentine you keep in your canteen?
If pressure makes a diamond, babe, I still might come out clean


In the simplе solitary joy of temporary comfort
Well, I closed my еyes and felt I′d slept a hundred thousand years
Awaking I would disregard the terms of my surrender
Took every bad fork in the road and look who's standing here
We were victims of eternal love for almost half a morning
Said I know you can't go home again, but tell me where you land
Oh, here′s to yet another chance you get to be reborn
And here′s to greener, higher hills to make your final stand

You can try to put the past behind
It's on your clothes like burning pine
Is it gin or turpentine, you keep in your canteen?
If pressure makes a diamond, babe, I still might come out clean

For a walking ghost, that southern coast was a lawless piece of heaven
There were bayou dives and oyster knives and liquor for to drown
In the Q beam lights and rooster fights and months I don′t remember
My winning hand went busted, and my luck was winding down
In the southeast Texas setting sun, I sit surveying damaged done
We wish you luck and fortune, hon, we're closing in an hour
Backed up to the Trinity with no more road to run
No longer can I wander all alone on my own power

And try to put the past behind, perhaps it′s only in your mind
They close the doors at nine at Channel Marker 17
If pressure makes a diamond, babe, I still might come out clean
Tejanos curse in Spanish and a Cajun eyes the weather
There's black mud on the belly of the yellow colt I ride
Never thought I′d catch myself so calm out in the open
As a gulf storm deals in bucket loads and hits from every side