back from where the crowd rains cold she s letting down the burden never doin what she s told living another walden back to where the cats are kings she knows it by the letter all those nights and mornings running it down and under there she goes polkadot dress barefoot on the cobblestones where is she at let s take a guess jaywalking in the streets of rome she s like a hotline you can call whether rain or shine when it looks like nothing is bright a few words with her and it ll be allright she is your chatter box writes you real letters oh roman goldilocks she s some upsetter there she goes tropical cyclone barefoot on the cobblestones looking for saint jerome jaywalking through the streets of rome picking up white owl feathers she buries to keep safe drinking oil and loving cats gives her their pur rand their scratch trees leaves and seashells will make her day words never come out in miscellaneous ways roaming along the gaps in the city greek goddess on the campo dei fiori scarlet doe in the middle of the prairie the feline can hear and feel and see