Feeling Blue in San Francisco

We got here by train
It runs the tracks
Wednesday nights

I’m feeling blue
in San Francisco
My brother says
The city pulls
Me by the collar

A white man in the station
Sang a song for me
And my tape recorder
But I didn’t press
The right button

A Black man played
An electric keyboard
Three stations south
Right as the train
Slid behind him
At least I got Rodger’s
Music on tape

We’re all feeling blue
In San Francisco
A city with no name
Painted in Crayola colors

Don’t just sit there
Brother, sit here
Take a water
With your coffee
And roll a smoke
For the fairy
That offered you a massage

Tonight we’ll
Drink and walk to
City Lights
And ask to see
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
We’ll sing him a song
Called The Blues of San Francisco
And hit the honky-tonk ivories
On a splintered park piano
That one next to the house
That fell over
When the earthquake
Hit in 1906

Now we’re in a city
That floats in the water

Squeeze a penny
Out of me
I’ve got a few
That’ll fall through
My pocket
If you don’t

I don’t mind because
I’m blue so blue
In San Francisco

It’s been worse before
Without the static
Now it’s smoother
With the feedback

Wish I had a pen
On me
To take down your name
And address because
Lord in heaven
You’re singing a
Beautiful song called
The Blues of San Francisco

Go ahead and liven me up,


One thought on “Feeling Blue in San Francisco

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