I want to go back to San Francisco
A place where I feel like I belong
Yes, I want to go back to San Francisco
A place where my Skeletons wont tag along.
Tirelessly wondering
I've been up for days
Again with these wine stained cracked lips
My spirit is driven by caffeine
Here I am again in mindless wondering
I attempt to grasp on to a miracle
My hopeless romanticized vision of romance pathetically lingers
Back here in San Francisco
A place where I feel like I belong
Back here in San Francisco
This time my skeletons tagged along

Storm clouds rollin' in
I hear the lightning and wind create  ambient noise while while Sonny Boy Williamson plays the main event.
The trails and troubles of a ***** tonic create a humble abyss of pure synthetic pleasure.
I try to understand these burning waves of unwanted desire that mold my inner being into an obscure life form.
The desired unconscious being.
Confusion brought on by my own state of unconscious consciousness.
I love so much I become sober with tired will that reconciles nothing.
****! The thunder cracks.
The dog is knocking.