What's there to live for
Who needs the peace corps
Think I'll just DROP OUT
I'll go to Frisco
Buy a wig and sleep
On Owsley's floor
Walked past the wig store
Danced at the Fillmore
I'm completely stoned
I'm hippy and I'm trippy
I'm a gypsy on my own
I'll stay a week and get the crabs and
Take a bus back home
I'm really just a phony
But forgive me
'Cause I'm stoned
Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
GO TO SAN FRANCISCO
How I love ya, How I love ya
How I love ya, How I love ya Frisco
How I love ya, How I love ya
How I love ya, How I love ya
Oh, my hair is getting good in the back
Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
GO TO SAN FRANCISCO
Hotcha
First I'll buy some beads
And then perhaps a leather band
To go around my head
Some feathers and bells
And a book of Indian lore
I will ask the Chamber Of Commerce
How to get to Haight Street
And smoke an awful lot of dope
I will wander around barefoot
I will have a psychedelic gleam in my eye at all times
I will love everyone
I will love the police as they kick the shit out of me on the street
I will sleep
I will, I will go to a house
That's, that's what I will do
I will go to a house
Where there's a rock and roll band
'Cause the groups all live together
And I will join a rock and roll band
I will be their road manager
And I will stay there with them
And I will get the crabs
But I won't care
Because