I left my heart in San Francisco,
high on a hill it calls to me.
To be where little cable cars
climb halfway to the stars.
The morning fog may chill the air,
I don’t care.
My love waits there in San Francisco,
above the blue and windy sea.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
your golden sun will shine for me.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
your golden sun will shine for me