Chorus:
Afternoons in San Francisco, where did you go?
Verse 1:
She was a foreign book with pages I’d read between the lines
I was an open letter to the pages of the New York Times
Late was the hour and short the time when she fled hastily away
Without a word and without pity, empty-chambered on the bay
I look but I can't find you
I seek but I can't find you
Verse 2:
complex equations for my happiness are easily derived
a brief internal systematic failure - planned my own demise
cold are the rooms and safe are the tombs that keep me under my control
blanketing everything in wisdom evicerates the soul
I look but I can't find you
I seek but I can't find you
Any questions or comments,
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