| I came out from under her warm sheets
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| Into the brisk late October
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| If only for one last hope
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| I wanted my time with you to be over
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| I’m staring up into the sky
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| While all the rain is pouring down
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| I’m reaching out for your help
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| But evil beings hold me backwards
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| All shapes and shadows move in and out
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| And hover around my head
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| Voices arrive and disappear
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| I want to talk to them
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| Darkness disintegrates, I’m rising
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| I’m rising toward a light
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| A light leading over hills and meadows
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| I’ve risen up from the dead
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| With the burning leaves of autumn
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| If only for one last chance
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| That all of whom have been defeated
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| To put on my father’s wool coat
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| To smell my mother’s fragrances and perfumes
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| To find my young brothers and sisters
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| To never leave or let them go
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| Houses adorned so beautifully
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| The Marin headlands song
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| Lost verses well up my eyes and ears
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| The lone mandolin strums
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| On Tamalpais warm spring
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| The many places we
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| Lay down in sleepy hidden shadows
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| I see you well and clear
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| Deep in the moonlight, dear
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| Your radiant august eyes, they are the suns that rise
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| They are the light that guides, and these lost verses
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| I came up from under the ocean
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| Evaporated sea salt water
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| A mist above the skyline
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| I haunt the streets of San Francisco
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| Watch over loved ones and old friends
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| I see them through their living room windows
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| Shaken by fear and worries
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| I want them to know how I love them so
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| Foghorns would sound in waking
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| Is it my voice you hear?
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| Footsteps are moving across the floor
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| And you know I’m here
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| The afternoon carries up from the hills
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| And you are well and near
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| To fall into the light I follow
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| I feel you oh so near when morning doves appear
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| And ghosts of April ring, echo the refrain
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| Soon finding a place
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| In these lost verses
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| They fill the foggy day, they hide the hills away
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| That steal our time
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| They are the picturesque night, the casting city lights
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| On the bay, flowing into the ocean glowing |