Come back from San Francisco It can't be all that pretty 
when all of New York City misses you Should pretty boys 
in discos distract you from your novel remember I'm 
awful in love with you You need me like the wind 
needs the trees to blow in Like the moon needs poetry 
you need me Come back from San Francisco and kiss me, 
I've quit smoking I miss doing the wild thing with you 
Will you stay, I don't think so but all I do is worry
Pack bags, call cabs and hurry home to me... 
When you betray me betray me with a kiss Damn you 
I've never stayed up as late as this