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 trans love airways to San Francisco U.S.A., then maybe you'll understand this 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 dreams
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 Davisons too
on a warm San Francisco night
old angels young angels 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
heavens above he's on a street called love
when will they even 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.


(Burdon/Briggs/Weider/Jenkins/McCulloch)
Eric Burdon & The Animals - 1967

I originally grew up in the mid-west... Wisconsin to be exact. As a kid I listened to the oldies station, and from time to time, this song would come across the air waves and I would listen to it - wondering what a night in San Francisco was like.

I now live about forty miles south of San Francisco, in Mountain View. I have watched the sunset over the Golden Gate Bridge, and the twinkle of city lights sitting atop an old anti-aircraft turret in the hills to the north.

The night is warm and relaxing. It invites people of all ages and walks of life to go out and stroll down the streets, looking at the various shops. Music pours out of the clubs where strobe lights and lasers shine. On the streets, performers play guitar.

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