| You knock at my door, meow the whole night |
| And when I open up for you, you light. |
| Looking for you, I climb each tree on my street, |
| I run and run until I got soaked feet. |
| Accept and you’re gone and then staid in, soar. |
| Lock my door and sit down by the fire place. |
| But ones my bones are finally warm |
| And my body has regained some strength, |
| I know you’ll knock again, |
| Loud and persistently. |
| I am tired, please, let me be. |
| I am tired, you’re no good for me. |
| This dream has been dreamed. |
| But this dream has been dreamed. |
| I’m a little mouse sitting under your table, |
| Love another leftovers you’re throwing down for me. |
| I pick ‘em up and treat each one as a pearl, |
| I collect ‘em and end ‘em and set ‘em in gallery. |
| I suck on the bones of your chicken massala. |
| I lick on your garbage bin, it’s my treasure and that’s the state you’ll find |
| me in. |
| I am tired, please, let me be. |
| I am tired, please, don’t throw nothing more down for me. |
| ‘cause that’s, for sure, no good for me. |
| Don’t you treat me, don’t you tell me, |
| This dream has been dreamed. |
| Don’t you treat me, don’t you tell me |
| That this dream has been dreamed. |