C7
F C C7
I'm going down south, beneath the borderline
F C
I'm going down south, beneath the borderline
G C
Come, Fat Mama, kiss my mouth one time.
Well, I knew it this morning, without a shadow of doubt
Well, I knew it this morning, without a shadow of doubt
My suitcase was packed, my clothes were hanging out
San Francisco is fine, you sure get lots of sun
San Francisco is fine, you sure get lots of sun
But I'm used to four seasons - California got but one.
Well, I got my dark sun-glasses, I got for good luck my black tooth
I got my dark sun-glasses, and for good luck I got my black tooth
Don't ask me nothing about nothing, I just might tell you the truth.
