The loveliness of Paris seems somehow beautifully gay
The glory that was Rome is of another way
I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan
I'm going to the city by the Bay
I left my shit in San Francisco
High on a hill, my shit calls to me
To be where piss and feces climb halfway to the stars
The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care
My turds waits there in San Francisco
Above the blue and windy sea
When I go to you, San Francisco
Your piles of turds will sing for me