Easy Come Lyrics

Just north of San Francisco where the red trees grow
And the fog rolls in, the cold wind blows
Well I was going for a drive
Following the curved lines of the coastal highway
The fog got so thick, I couldn't see the sun
So I pulled over to the side
I wandered into a bar and I sat on a stool
There were 3 fishermen playing a game of pool
And an old man sitting next to me
Well he appeared to be a man of about 60 years