Impression of San Francisco

Impression of San Francisco

At the end of continents
Cliffs falls into the sea

Gulls circled below
Where we stood
At the sidewalk's end

Houses crowded down hill
Grasping the street like little boys
In a tug-o-war with the tide

Someone painted Moa
On the building across from the hostel
He greeted us in the morning
a smiling Buddha rising in the east

Where are our tall mountains
That we might run into them
Hidden by the horizon I suppose
Don't ask me anything

Don't ask me anything

The busses smelt of piss
Dead men huddled in the back
We stepped over them
Someone told me that
Jesus would send blessings
For my five spot
And I thought of the mountains

Dreams too fade into the sea
Like broken sidewalks
Melting-melting-melting
Into piss and madness



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