"The Cat in the Space Between Things" - Part I

I stroked my fingers through her hair
and found she wasn't even there
But then a voice said she's not far
Where you live isn't where you are
Where you look is the only thing
That will ever show you stars.

The cats are always looking
for mice they never find
The birds keep on chirping
in songs that have no rhyme
Those Cuban girls keep dancing
as they're the only ones who can
but I'll just keep looking
for the Cat I have to find.

In this sordid space of things,
there's really nothing there
just cops running wild
and people running scared
They dash about all over
in fearful panicked glee
in a festered dream of fame
when they show up on TV

--- How is this relevant
--- There's nothing more these people hope 
--- than to help the vendors sell their soap.
--- I'll sing for you this glory day
--- but first we'll talk of what you'll pay.

Of I course I cannot find her here.
There's another place, all free and clear,
of falsity and those endeared
to monuments of triumph
that engineered their doom,
to the multi-colored flags
they wave in every room
to the pagan gods they worship
and were this monster's womb.

There's another kind of theatre
and another kind of play
No ticket is required
and no-one has to pay.
You know the train that takes you
but you don't know where it goes.

You know it isn't here
but still you try to look
like the cats with their mice
and the birds in their songs.
If I'm to find the Cat,
she's Cheshire, don't you know,
then it couldn't be more clear.
There's somewhere else I need to go.