San Franciscan Nights

Strobe light beam, creates dreams
Walls move, minds do too
On a warm San Franciscan night
Old child, young child
Feel all right
On a warm San Franciscan night
Angels sing, leather wings
Jeans of blue, Harley Davidsons too
On a warm San Franciscan night
Old angel, young angel
Feel all right
On a warm San Franciscan night
I wasn’t born there
Perhaps I’ll die there
There’s no place left to go
San Francisco
Cops face is filled with hate
Heavens above
He’s on a street called «Love»
When will they ever learn?
Old cop, young cop
Feel all right
On a warm San Franciscan night
The children are cool
They don’t raise fools
It’s an American dream
Includes Indians too