San Francisco by Brett Dennen
Go if you want to go
But I won’t follow
Just so you know
Leave if you need to leave
But I won’t be here
I wont be here when you come home
I’m gonna to move to San Francisco
Look up some old friends
I’m gonna get me a navy pea coat
And an old Mercedes Benz
This old town it keeps shrinking
There’s too many people in my junk
I’m gonna do a lot of drinking
Cause it don’t hurt when I’m drunk
I’m gonna rent me an old Victorian
Down in the Lower Haight
I’m gonna find me an old accordion
Play for the tourists on the golden gate
I’m gonna plant a garden
Paint my bathroom blue
I’m gonna try real hard
To get over you
Here in the city life doesn’t move so slow
There’s plenty of good people I know
Up in north beach they drink spicy Italian liqueur
Down on market there’s a lot of hobos and the hustlers
Down in Hayes Valley, there’s a lot of real good restaurants
Deep in the tenderloin you can get anything you want
Over in the mission it’s always a sunny day
It’s a real good baseball town but my team is across the bay
I feel the need to just go.
If I had to write a personal ad this is probably what it would look like a la the Stephanie Klein format:
I hate the ways Chacos look.  I think they make your feet look swollen.  I’d rather be outdoors climbing a mountain or skiing down a slope, but I need someone to show me how.  I enjoy backpacking through difficult terrain because of the journey not the overlook.  I don’t talk when I hike probably because I’m trying to catch my breath.  I have so much of something sleeping inside me and theatre is the only safe conduit for it’s electricity when it slips from hibernation. I laugh loud and often, its my favorite thing to do. I’ll cook for you and your friends, and your friends friends and their family as long as you look me in the eye after your first bite and tell me that you like it.  I want kids… I don’t care the order, or how many, but I want the chance to build a family of my own. I blow my nose more often than I breathe and sometimes the tissues don’t always make it to the trash can on the first or third try. I don’t shower everyday. I enjoy camping because the inaccessibility of a bathroom allows me to be just as dirty as I like being.  l have too many pillows on my bed and get frustrated in the middle of the night when they’re suffocating me . I have to sleep with something against my back and I’d prefer you over a pillow.  I love vodka tonics with orange flavored vodka. I am still amazed at things like sex and alcohol because I was raised to believe that they’re wrong and one shouldn’t indulge in them without the proper supervision — or at all.
You would make me feel safe.   This world magnifies my personality to make it larger than life and describes it as intimidating , but you understand it’s because I’ve had to create a little bit of everyone I love in myself because my “real” family left a long time ago.  You’d let me read in your company. You doing what you do, watching tv, or on the computer or reading , but you’d drape your arm over my shoulder and let me lean against you as I read or solved a crossword puzzle (which I don’t do) or Sudoku (which I haven’t done in years). But you’d let me do what I do quietly and be okay not being the certain of my attention. You’d lead me through crowds by holding my hand and paving the way…not because I can’t walk or lead myself, but because I feel safer when you do.  You are well aware of your emotions, feelings and are able and comfortable to express them when the times comes… no matter how ugly or pleasant you’re not afraid to let me see who you are. You’re comfortable sourcing your life from something that has nothing to do with me. You’re aware of a God that created us and define It according to your understanding, not someone else’s.   You’d laugh with me during the most difficult time in either or both of our lives with the understanding that our journey’s are separate, we just choose to bike through them together. You pick up whenever I call if you can. You communicate without me having to walk you through the process.  You tell me I’m wrong kindly and gently, but stand your ground if its something you believe and you’re unafraid when I challenge that view.
We laugh. We experience life together with knowing looks, smiles and beneath the table knee connections.  We are together for a very long time probably till death, but that sounds cliche and has been kidnapped by a faulty selfish institution so I’m afraid to say it…but it’s what I mean.