It's quiet on my floor   Except for the gospel ladies   Just the smell of some wicked candles   Makes me think into the bowl of sanity   They wear light-rimmed hats and joyful smiles   Who loved to run up the street branch   And in the middle of it is a puddle of water   Wind of faithful voices   Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa   Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa      Your cat is a friendly brother   Would offer his heart with allegience   And if he could talk we'd be best friends   The only friend he has is his food bowl   And he bites away at your book hand   For the commendable attention you give him   And you cuddle for a half an hour   Till he dreams about his food bowl   Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa   Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa      I'll leave you in my heart   Six or seven later   I'm still very, very hungry   I'm still writing songs   I can't play at all   But my heaven is all around me   And there's Zulu in my body   Have I eaten all the very good dates now?   Is our night worth contemplating?