San Francisco Song

You know I cannot stand your love for alcohol

You're such a tall man but you're looking kind of small

I'll send you movie stills to rid you of your ills

Because you're ill

Now you're finding out I'm hard to please

You'd better watch your mouth you'll bring a girl close to tears

I ripped up my lyric book, gave myself the blackest look

Black looks

You would think by now I wouldn't miss this place

It makes my poor legs weak and my sweet heart start to race

To race, yeah to race