San Francisco Gregory Alan Isakov

The mist fills
Quiet room
San Francisco

What the hell was all
That talkin' round
Where is it now, sunny California?
I wake with you, I feel your coat, sleep late afternoons
I hitched along, but I turned wrong
How you moved me along, with your shepherd songs
Every time you opened up to sing…

The still sun, never moves, across the sky
Funny thing, time
She made you mine
And she'll rob you blind

Lay down in your new town
Walk the ground
Glass and houses fill the fields

Now the moon sees everything
In this sanitarium
Can I get through, like the moon gets through
Across the sea
Treacherous
And now you've gone, after all we've known
And after all that I've been told
California's cold