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 for me.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
Your golden sun will shine for me
Writer(s): Douglass Cross, George C. Jr Cory
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