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ArtistThe moon’s ridin’ high o’er the ponderosa pines, Silver on the needles, gold in the mines. I’m callin’ for a shadow that slipped from my sight, My black cat’s gone wanderin’ into the night. Oh, black cat, black cat, where did you roam? Down by the creek or the old claim’s loam? Don’t let the cougar catch your song, Or the wolves start howlin’ before too long. The wind through the branches whispers your name, Like a ghost from the timbers, soft and tame. Tracks in the dust by the mine’s dark door, Say you passed this way but not no more. Oh, black cat, black cat, where did you roam? Down by the creek or the old claim’s loam? Don’t let the cougar catch your song, Or the wolves start howlin’ before too long. Maybe you’re dancin’ with spirits tonight, Chasin’ moths by the graveyard light. Or curled in the hay where the barn owls dream, Safe from the howl and the miner’s seam. Oh, black cat, black cat, come back home, Leave that gold-vein hill alone. The lantern’s lit and the cider’s warm— Come back before the break of dawn. The moon rides high o’er the ponderosa pines, And I’m still searchin’ where the lost ghost shines...
A black cat gazes at a bright full moon over a serene landscape, with a cozy cabin nestled in vibrant autumn foliage and tall trees against a starry sky.