City Desk

Help Us Write “The Year of the Nats”

With all due respect to D.C. Ty The Monster and Lady Moet Beast, whose "Nationals Anthem" suddenly became more salient this year, there's room for more than one Nats tune in this town. The proposal: a crowdsourced, pro-Nats parody of Al Stewart's smooth-rock classic, "The Year of the Cat," which in recent years has been reduced to a reference point for people who review the music of indie rocker Dan Bejar (or who are trying to place the sample in this song by D.C. electronic trio Volta Bureau).

"The Year of the Cat" is dope, the Nats are headed to the playoffs, and surely there are enough nerds out there who see the need to connect those two realities. Let's make "The Year of the Nats" happen.

Here's Stewart's first verse:

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime

The suggested rewrite, to get things rolling:

On a diamond where they serve Ben's chili
In a city where the game twice died
Plays a ballclub that no longer fades like Teddy
The Nationals nine

Yeah, it's a little more "Casey at the Bat" than "1970s singer-songwriter," but whatever. I am a Phillies fan (as I made clear in this week's WCP cover package) after all, so I'm not putting any more effort into this. It's up to you, Natitude Land. Leave subsequent verses in the comments.

Here's the rest of Stewart's lyrics to get you started:

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolor in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat

She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, "I feel my life Just like a river running through"
The year of the cat

Why she looks at you so coolly?
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat

Well morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away your choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on
But the drumbeat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat
Year of the cat

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