Gregory Alan Isakov

San Francisco

Gregory Alan Isakov

That Sea, The Gambler


The mist fills
Quiet room
San francisco

What the hell was all
That talkin' round
Where is it now, sunny california?
I wake with you, I feel your coat
Sleep late afternoons
And I hitched along, but I turned wrong
How you moved me along, with your shepard songs
Everytime you opened up to sing

The still sun, never moves, across the sky
Funny thing, time
She made you mine
And she'll rob you blind

Lay down in your new town
Walk the ground
Glass and houses fill the fields

Now the moon sees everything
In this sanitarium
Can I get through, like the moon gets through
Across the sea
Treacherous
And now you've gone, after all we've known
And after all that I've been told
California's cold

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