The Ioveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay The glory that was Rome is now yesterday I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan But I'm going home to my city by the bay I left my heart in San Francisco High on a hill it calls to me To be where little cable cars Climb way halfway to the stars The morning fog, it may chill the air, no, I don't care My love waits there That's why I gotta go to San Francisco Above the blue and the windy Windy, windy, windy sea When I come home to you, baby, San Francisco Your golden sun has got to, got to shine for me On, help me When I come home to you, baby, San Francisco Your golden sun got to, got to, got to, got to Got to shine for me Oh, help me, I believe that it will I can hear my train callin' I can hear my train callin'