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 stuffS
o 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
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