We spent July
In a Berkeley basement
Half-read books
And bold declarations
There was so much
I didn't believe in
And then
There was you
You made me brave
You made me stupid
Gave me the skin
That I couldn't move in
We're gonna leave them
Where they stand
We'll leave them
Where they love
No one cares
About the stories
They're not in
We'll fade
Out to whispers
It's the last days of summer
In San Francisco
The kitchen's cold
And the tea kettle whistles
The J-church rolls
And rattles our windows
There's no nostalgia here
It's just now
Baby, now
I was a fire
That you started
For once I knew
Everything that I wanted
We're gonna leave them
Where they stand
We'll leave them
Where they love
No one cares
About the stories
They're not in
We'll fade out to whispers
It's the last days of summer
In San Francisco
It's the last days of summer
In San Francisco
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.
We'll be right back.