1. We are caught up in the dreams of the young that float on the western highways and cross bridges into the city. Dreams of the young settle on the tops of skyscrapers and make their way filled with energy and light to the beach to lay out in the California sun and hold up the ocean air with fingers outstretched. They fly down the highway their arm out the window, the sun setting into the ocean. Dreams of the young are here - blinking out morse code from the city, drifting on the wind, and then up, up to heaven.

2. Hemlock Tavern - Saturday Night - San Francisco, CA. Regulars finishing up well drinks as kids stumble in on their way to somewhere else on Polk street. A couple taps you on your shoulder and ask if you know where to get meth or coke. You don't. You keep drinking and everything starts to blur and spin and shake a little bit. Into the alley for the night to sleep it off covered in three sweaters and hiding inside a blue recycling bin you grabbed from behind the restaurant.

3. Walking down 25th street on the 4th of July hand in hand. The fog pours over the hills and people spill out of driveways and front doors, cars slowly drift across intersections,. You take a right on Mission Street and take in the sights and right then the fireworks go off in the middle of the road.

4. You try to run from the sirens and flashing lights. Through empty parks and over wooden fences. Carrying your only bag and blanket. You curl up to sleep in front of the Native Daughters of the Golden West building on Baker street. In the early morning you begin walking toward the park. Another day. In my head, I mean in my head, everything is OK.

5. An empty lot with a No Parking sign and chain link fences to keep cars out. You find your place here, under the highway overpass. Just enough space to spread out your tent and still be covered from the rain. The sound of cars drones into the late night and you fall asleep.

6. The narrow world, it swallows you alive. Don't let those things get into your mind. It's 3 a.m. when the lights come on and shine right in you eyes. It's 3 a.m. when they kick you in the leg and wake you up. Oh I can see it in your eyes.

7. Here everything looks the same. Broken sidewalks and cars parked in front yards. And there, out on the ocean the lights of ships, just waiting for tomorrow. The night it just waits for sparks, or maybe just bonfires on Ocean Beach. Oh there is never time. There is never time. I keep walking. The night throws off sparks. I keep walking. Along streetcar tracks the night begins to envelop me. The road it led me straight for miles. It was endless. I thought of nothing. I thought of nothing.

8. Gone City at the end of 2020. Reach out your hands away from the city, reach out your hands toward the sky. You don't know what you are missing. 20 years is gone. The fog rolls in from the beach toward the mountains. We are helpless to stop these forces. Time it slows down just for a moment. And then it speeds up and 10 more years pass by. they reach up for the stars and you are just getting by. The city is gone. The city is gone.

9. Civic Center bathed in purple orange blue twilight, standing up to the sky. Another day slowly disappears toward the ocean and farther out west . Steam rises from a vent and drifts off toward the library. You walk across the plaza looking left to right. Taking in the last moment of the evening. The lights on the building are purple for some reason. You turn away to cross McAllister to wait on the bus.

10. Look at the fog. It is flying down the street. This is the air that you and me breathe. It is still hard to believe. I'm still stuck on east coast time. And for various reasons right now, I am going out of my mind. We stop at the corner store at the corner of Golden Gate and Central. It is one of those Sundays where everything feels overwhelming. Try not to let the fear in. Try not to let the fear get in. And the fear it gets in. The fear it gets in.