2 acessos
The Ioveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay
The glory that was Rome is now yesterday
I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan
But I'm going home to my city by the bay
I left my heart in San Francisco
High on a hill it calls to me
To be where little cable cars
Climb way halfway to the stars
The morning fog, it may chill the air, no, I don't care
My love waits there
That's why I gotta go to San Francisco
Above the blue and the windy
Windy, windy, windy sea
When I come home to you, baby, San Francisco
Your golden sun has got to, got to shine for me
On, help me
When I come home to you, baby, San Francisco
Your golden sun got to, got to, got to, got to
Got to shine for me
Oh, help me, I believe that it will
I can hear my train callin'
I can hear my train callin'