Some airport lights
The strange girl with golden hair
In my memory, still trailing
It's winter in San Francisco
But it never falls from water
On the outskirts of Colorado
And the Golden Gate falls asleep
On Alcatraz where still trailing
Sobs color of prison
Mr. Caryl Chessman is dead
But doubt still exists
Was he right or wrong?
So far away from L.A.,
So far ago from Frisco
I'm not one but a shadow
But a shadow ...
A shadow
The Queen Mary is a hotel
Off Beverley Hills
And the hills remember
Festivities of the dynasty
Who, from Garbo to Bogie
Was resonating his follies