I was taking in the Haight
with a guest from L.A.
Wearin underwears
like a hat on my head.
The spirit of the sixties
was all around
From high on Hippie Hill
we surveyed the sacred ground.

Covering hallowed ground.
Covering hallowed ground.

Well, I was South of the Slot
by closing time
My black leather chaps
afloat the crystalline tide.
I wheelied down an alley
that shined with lube
Checked the ghost of Sylvester
by the light of the man on the moon.

Covering hallowed ground.
Covering hallowed ground.

When daybreak broke
I hit the beach but found no sand,
though Saints Peter and Paul
were close at hand.
A screamer bared his knife
and drew a fleet of Black and Whites -
a book he d written, way back when,
had changed my life.

Covering hallowed ground.
Covering hallowed ground.
Covering hallowed ground.
Covering hallowed ground....

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