San Francisco B.C.

Old San Francisco, San Francisco B.C.
 I lived with my true love and she lived with me.
 "Romance is the douche of the bourgeoisie"
 Was the very first thing she imparted to me
 We had sarcastic hair, we used lewd pseudonyms
 We got a lot of stares on the street back then.
 Since her dad, a local barber, had been beaten to death
 She had become a vocal martyr in the vegan press
 The cops had failed, they couldn't catch a bus
 They were looking for a male with a bad hair cut
 Enter tumbleweed, exit love and our affaire d'amour
 Was set on self-destruct.
 She said "you don't make enough to provide for me."
 I said "what about the stuff that we quote believe?"
 She said "I left that on the sands of history
 I've found a new man to take care of me
 He dresses for success and emergency
 And he moves a lot of concrete on the QVC."
 Little, asian, deadly, like a cobra in the shade
 Sat in the midst of the smoke that he made
 His name was Mr. Games and he owned the place
 It was a lonely bar and grill in the Lower Haight
 He had a jeweler's hands and a blurry face
 He knew I needed a chance so he gave me a break.
 "If I hire you now, can you start today?
 I got a high-rise job down by the bay.
 Just a couple of rocks and some firearms
 There's not many locks and just one alarm
 My step-son Gene will pick you up and drive
 Try to be his friend, he's got a friendly side."
 Doll-house lightning and the next thing I knew
 We were back at our point of rendezvous.
 I was in the possession of burglary tools
 Children's fur coats and diamonds and jewels
 Gene's talking about insignificant shit
 Just like crooks in the movies when they do that bit.
 He said the power of metal will never be harnessed.
 I thought the wages of metal should be heavily garnished.
 We were waiting for his dad to meet us there
 Gene took off his hat and I noticed his hair
 It was neatly trimmed but a patch was bare
 I knew it wasn't the wave, it was human error.
 Before I knew what I said, I said "killer cut."
 I watched him silently putting out a cigarette butt.
 Then he came at me with some fist cuisine
 I had to duck aside and that was bad for Gene
 Cause when he went by me he tripped and fell
 Through the glass coffee table at the Wong hotel.
 Right there and then Mr. Games walked in
 With my ex-true love on his gamy limb.
 So her dad's killer's dad was her new beau
 And Games had a wife, whatta you know?
 She got real real quiet till we chucked the kid
 Then she went her way and I went his.
 Old San Francisco, San Francisco B.C.