[Verse I] There’s a black cat in my garden, I have known him all my years. He watched me from the shadows Through my laughter and my tears. When fever took me to my bed, He’d creep a little near, And stare into my window As if he knew my fear. [Verse II] The seasons came like travelers, And every year they passed. The boy I was grew older, The years went by too fast. But still that cat stood waiting, Untouched by age or rain, The same dark eyes, the same black coat, The same unspoken claim. [Chorus] And he looks at me as if to say, “Your tale is not yet done.” While every road I should have walked Has vanished with the sun. I have lived beneath his watching eyes, And now I understand— The things I left behind me Were the things I could not mend. [Verse III] I cannot say when children First became the ghosts they are. One day there was a goodbye, And then they wandered far. A hello now, a passing smile, A little comfort lent, Then silence fills the doorway Where all their laughter went. [Verse IV] And now I fear the nighttime, When the house has gone still. I dream of claws like silver knives And eyes upon the sill. They pierce me through the darkness, They know the things I hide— The rights I left unspoken, The wrongs I passed beside. [Chorus] And he looks at me as if to say, “Your tale is not yet done.” But the fire beneath my candle Grows weaker one by one. I have lived beneath his watching eyes, And now I understand— The things I left behind me Were the things I could not mend. [Bridge] Perhaps he comes for nothing But the debt that time has made. Perhaps he is the keeper Of every promise frayed. Perhaps those ancient shining eyes Have watched a thousand souls, And every man must answer For the road his footsteps chose. [Verse V] Tonight he sits beside the door, His shadow long and thin. I hear the rain against the glass, I dare not let him in. Yet something in his silence Is gentler than before— As though he knows the hour has come To settle every score. [Final Chorus] He looks at me as if to say, “Your tale is nearly done.” And somewhere past the morning There waits another sun. I have lived beneath his watching eyes, I know what I must face— Not death, but all the moments I abandoned on the way. [Outro] The black cat leaves the garden. The night grows strangely still. I watch him cross the moonlight And vanish past the hill. Tomorrow he may come again. Or perhaps he will not.
