Philosopher Kings - All Dressed Up For San Francisco

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She's got spider web hair

And a skin like see through jelly

With a, a porcelain stare

That moves the walls of my belly



But she used to have a Cherub's glow

That lit a lamp gas nose

Her eyes were full of hot wine

And her body was a rose



Now, she moved like a liquid

Through the boys of Mason City

Had every Gatling gun slinging soldier

Every grease monkey, every Walter Mitty



She finally settled on some corn husker

With cotton seed teeth under a diamond smile

Dressed up for San Francisco but

Held up in Mason City for a while



Now, her man used to work

To make the corn belt grow

While she would dream of a city

With the soft heart, San Francisco



Dream a quiet burrow

For a husband, child and wife

And poke another hole

Into the heart of American life



Now, San Francisco's no place

For a Mason City couple

You can get thrown into a turbine

And get lost in the shuffle



She keeps everything she owns

In a Saratoga trunk that's going out of style

Dressed up for San Francisco but

Held up in Mason City for a while



No, no, no

No, no, no

No, no, no

...

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