words "

He left home six months ago, 

a greyhound bus and a saxaphone,

A rock band fan and a son of a preacher man.

He had a hard time dealing with all the fact, 

bought himself a needle end 

railroadtracks, gonna do my thing, 

gonna start me a jazz band.

Although he pumped that junk and herb, 

he couldn't play that horn like Byrd, 

He went into rehab, came out with a master plan.

He sold the rocks and bribed the cops, 

opened up a little old tatoo shop. 

Got him a slice of the American pie. 


(Chorus)

If you make that move to get here,

you'll be alright.

You'll get your San Francisco treat.

And if you got that groove inside,

and you shake it all night

you'll get your San Fracisco treat.


Nikki was a genius from Chicago, 

never got along with know high class folks.

She was out looking to find her soul, 

but the midwest weather was too damn cold.

She got the urge, she bought a van. 

Shaved her head and the trip began. 

Gonna do my thing, gonna live to the maximum.

Although she pierced her eye and tounge, 

she felt life was still hum-drum, 

until a year ago, 

she caught a glimps of the rainbow.

She opened up a late nite club, 

met a cute girl and she fell in love.

Now she's the cream of the American dream.


(Chorus)

So if your a freak at home, 

your friends think your mind has gone.

Just remember now, 

that you got a place to go.

But don't wait before you come, 

you ain't gonna stay this young.

Your gonna get your treat in San Francisco.


(chorus)


"