Faded photographs in my hands
Midnight faces on the sand
Salt and sand, forever blending
Time etched lines in my thinking
I found you in old film frames
Whispers of your name
In the depths of San Francisco's dreams
Where neon sighs on the bay
Processing reels of fading scenes
Moves and moments then and when
Shape and sound, a reel-to-reel machine
Chasing ghosts that I can't touch or see
I found you in old film frames
Whispers of your name
In the depths of San Francisco's dreams
Where neon sighs on the bay
Dust motes dancing in the light
Carved by beams of shimmering night
Crimson sunsets painted on the sky
No need for words to catch the eye
I found you in old film frames
Whispers of your name
In the depths of San Francisco's dreams
Where neon sighs on the bay
Silhouettes on the pier at last
Summer ends, the film's flash
Rolling reels through starry nights
Chasing fires that once took flight
(Drop to softly panned ethereal vocals and reverb tail)
