Three colors on a salty coat
Watching every drifting boat
Cold wind bites the harbor wall
Waiting for the night to fall
Golden eyes on the concrete ledge
Standing on the water's edge
Patient soul in a calico skin
Watching where the deep tides begin
Old fares leave in a yellow cab
Salty air feels like a jab
One small cat on a grey stone seat
Walking on those velvet feet
Golden eyes on the concrete ledge
Standing on the water's edge
Patient soul in a calico skin
Watching where the deep tides begin
Ships glide past in a steady line
Scent of diesel and old brine
He don't move and he don't cry
Underneath a purple sky
Golden eyes on the concrete ledge
Standing on the water's edge
Patient soul in a calico skin
Watching where the deep tides begin
Streetlights blink on the distant pier
Everything is sharp and clear
Just a ghost in the harbor haze
Counting all the passing days
Golden eyes on the concrete ledge
Standing on the water's edge
Patient soul in a calico skin
Watching where the deep tides begin
Still watching the tide roll in.
The tide roll in.
(Ooh, ooh)
