I lost my way-o
in the streets of San Francisco
those hippies got a hold of me
a nightmare in the Tenderloin
where all the junkies beg for coin
the fog rolled in and I couldn't see
But the bread truck rolls down the avenue
the bread truck rolls down the avenue
eveybody's looking for a home
nobody wants to be a lone
On the sidewalk new york dolls
and Juero was born in juvenile hall
his mother's now a statue in the church
and he tries to keep it narrow and straight
but sometimes he just wakes up late
all in a sweat, he's got that urge