A bird sits on a wire and trims her beak
The summer beckons to the spring and cannot speak
A sea lion yawns upon his neighbor's
Sleek and supple form
And barks a bit
The lazy city warms into the May
And welcomes it
A San Francisco symphony begins again
A San Francisco litany repeats again
As hazy fogs and tiny dogs
All blend into a bay of new desire
The sun descends and turns the sky to fire
And still the bird sits on her tiny wire
And trims her beak
The summer waves away the spring
A baby laughs upon its swing
The city starts another day
The fog rolls softly from the bay
And hazy fogs and tiny dogs complete
The picture of a city street
The sea lion yawns again and slips away
Beside the wharf, inside the bay
A San Francisco symphony
An oft repeated litany
The sun descends, the night departs
The city wakes, the morning starts
To paint upon the highest spire
A ray of sun, and to conspire
With one small bird upon her wire
Who trims her beak
