San Franciscan Nights — Eric Burdon

Strobe light beam, creates dreams Walls move, minds do too On a warm San Franciscan night

Old child , young child Feel all right

On a warm San Franciscan night Angels sing, leather wings Jeans of blue, Harley Davidson's too On a warm San Franciscan night

Old angel, young angel Feel all right On a warm San Franciscan night

I wasn't born there Perhaps I'll die there There's no place left to go San Francisco

Cops face is filled with hate Heavens above He's on a street called "Love" When will they ever learn? Old cop, young cop Feel all right On a warm San Franciscan night

The children are cool They don't raise fools It's an American dream Includes Indians too