San Francisco

Winds blow high and winds go low Dust will rise as the bay gets cold Windows will slam and doors will close Clouds grow grey over San Francisco Clocks tick out and people they roam The empty streets and back alley roads From east to west the winds they blow Clouds grow grey over San Francisco Winds blow high and winds go low Rain will pour and the fog will roll Out the docks the boats they glow Clouds grow grey over San Francisco Bridges stand tall above the clouds Terror in the streets is coming down As for me well I'm on the ground Clouds grow grey of the San Francisco town