[music] [music] >> She finds the one patch where the morning light stays. [music] On the arm of a chair worn by someone long gone. She knows you've come home [singing] before [music] you reach the door.
She holds [singing] every quiet [music] that has lived in this house. [music] A home without [singing] a cat is just [music] a house. Just walls and a door [singing and music] and cold air.
But nothing watching [music] from the sill. Nothing waiting in the chair. A home without a cat [music] is just a house.
Some houses go quiet [music] the way a winter moves in. Not all at once. [music] Just a room.
Then a room. >> [music] >> A bowl [singing] the door with a name no one [music] says. The warmth [singing] of a house >> [music] >> that has lost its first heart.
A home without a cat >> [music] >> is just a house. Just walls [singing] and a door and cold [music] air. But nothing [singing] watching [music] from the sill.
Nothing [singing and music] waiting in the chair. A home without [music] a cat is just a house. 3:00 [singing] in the morning [music] when the world has gone still, >> [music] >> she finds [singing] you awake and she doesn't ask [singing and music] why.
Just settles beside you >> [music] >> like she's always known. >> [music] >> But this is exactly >> [music] >> where she ought to lie. So leave a warm [singing] window >> [music] >> and call it a home.
Let them find their own corner [music and singing] and settle in stay. [music] Something will change. You will feel it one [music] morning.
The walls [singing] will grow warmer. >> [music] >> And walls ought to be.
