I was taking in the haight



With a guest from l.a.



Wearin underwears



Like a hat on my head.



The spirit of the sixties



Was all around







From high on hippie hill



We surveyed the sacred ground.



Covering hallowed ground.







Well, I was south of the slot



By closing time



My black leather chaps



Afloat the crystalline tide.



I wheelied down an alley



That shined with lube







Checked the ghost of sylvester



By the light of the man on the moon.



Covering hallowed ground.











When daybreak broke



I hit the beach but found no sand,



Though saints peter and paul



Were close at hand.







A screamer bared his knife



And drew a fleet of black and whites -



A book he d written, way back when,



Had changed my life.