Golden Gates, San Francisco
Let your yellow hair down
Can I climb your string?
At your feet, lay my gun

'Cause I can't shake the morning
It comes one way or another
It comes into my room like a mother
In morning

Don't let the shell come between us
Truth is the freshest fruit
Stargazer, what are you going to do?

Born at the end of the year
Born at the end of the year
Born at the end of the year
Born at the end of the year

Can anybody hear me?
I speak clearly
You don't need to crowd in near
To hear me

Don't let the shell come between us
Truth is the freshest fruit
Stargazer, what are you going to do?