Catherine Street

Catherine Street

Sometimes she feels like the Lady of Shalott

Up there in her tower, waiting for Sir Lancelot

To come riding down Catherine Street

She works her long needles to make mittens of lace

Her world in a mirror, those clouds look so much like his face

Silently they say it's too late, It's too late.

What if she dared to turn herself around

Step out on the stair, stand on solid ground

Take coffee and cake down on Catherine Street

Would her heart crack

From side to side,

Would she even survive?

Would Sir Lancelot ride

Into her arms

Make love to her,

There, on Catherine St?

Instrumental

Sometime she feels like the Lady of Shalott

Up there in her tower waiting for Sir Lancelot

To come riding down Catherine Street