This following program is dedicated
to the city and people of San Francisco,
who may not know it
but they are beautiful,
and so is their city.
This is a very personal song,
so if the viewer cannot understand it,
particularly those of you
who are European residents,
save up all your bread,
and fly Trans-Love-Airways,
to San Francisco U.S.A.,
then maybe you'll understand the song.
It will be worth it,
if not for the sake of this song,
but for the sake of your
own peace of mind.
Strobe light's beam,
creates dreams.
Walls move,
minds do too,
on a warm San Franciscan night.
Old child,
young child,
feel alright,
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 alright,
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...
Cop's face
is filled
with hate.
Heavens above!
he's on a street called "love"
When will they even learn?
Old cop,
young cop,
feel alright,
on a warm San Franciscan night.
the children are cool,
they don't raise fools.
It's an american dream,
includes indians too.