every morning i rise,
these old bones past their time.
i can smell the air of the wharfs,
and the trolleys with their chimes.

i have some trouble with the hills,
sloping in such varying degrees.
i try my best to keep going,
at my back keeping the breeze.

i've seen many presidents,
and fought in a couple of wars.
now i take morning walks,
and visit the endless stores.

there's something only this city,
is able to allay.
which is why i awake every day,
and walk down to The Bay.