Acapulco '22

I left my heart in San Francisco.
High on a hill it calls to me
to be where little cable cars
climb halfway to the stars!
The morning fog may chill the air,
I don't care!
My love waits there in San Francisco,
above the blue and windy sea.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
your golden sun will shine for me!

I left my heart in San Francisco.
High on a hill it calls to me
to be where little cable cars
climb halfway to the stars!
The morning fog may chill the air,
I don't care!
My love waits there in San Francisco,
above the blue and windy sea.
When I come home to you, San Francisco,

Desert shadows creep across purple sands.
Natives kneel in prayer by their caravans.

There, silhouetted under and eastern star,
I see my long lost blossom of shalimar

You, Misirlou, Are the moon and the sun, fairest one.

Old temple bells are calling across the sand.
We'll find our Kismet, answering love's command.

You, Misirlou, are a dream of delight in the night.

To an oasis, sprinkled by stars above,
Heaven will guide us, Allah will bless our love.