The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay;
The glory that was Rome is of another day;
I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan;
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 halfway to the stars;
The morning fog may chill the air,
I don't care.
My love waits there, in San Francisco,
Above the blue and windy sea;
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
Your golden sun will shine on me.