This following program is dedicated to the city and people of San Francisco, who may not know it, but they are beautiful, and so is their city. This is a very personal song, so if the viewer cannot understand it, particularly those of you who are European residents, save up all your bread and fly TransLuv Airways to San Francisco, USA. Then maybe you'll understand the song. It will be worth it. If not for the sake of this song, but for the sake of your own peace of mind. Strobe lights beam, create streams, walls move, minds do too. On a warm San Francisco night. Old child, young child, feel alright. On a warm San Francisco night. Angels sing, leather wings, jeans of blue, Harley-Davidson street. On a warm San Francisco night. Old angel, young angel, feel alright. On a warm San Francisco night. I wasn't born there, perhaps I'll die there. There's no place left to go. San Francisco. Cop's face is filled with hate. Heaven's above, he's on a street called love. When will they ever learn? Old cop, young cop, feel alright. On a warm San Francisco night. The children are cool, they don't raise fools. It's an American dream, includes Indians too. www.mooji.org