Two tickets to the Coffee Festival at Fort Mason this weekend, and one of them still needs a name on it. Steady hands have a full day of cases before I get to taste my way down that row. Come claim the seat beside me, beautiful.
Two tickets to the Coffee Festival at Fort Mason this weekend, and one of them still needs a name on it. Steady hands have a full day of cases before I get to taste my way down that row. Come claim the seat beside me, beautiful.
Did my civic duty this morning before my first case — the sticker's still riding on my shirt and I've decided it stays there all day. Tell me you did yours too, beautiful.
Tonight the Mission walks for the ones we carry with us, and I'll be in that crowd with marigolds in my coat pocket. First, a full day of steady hands at the clinic — the shirt's only half interested in its buttons so far. Tell me you'll be somewhere in that crowd tonight.
Run's in the books, lungs are burning in the good way, and the clinic gets these steady hands in an hour. The tank lost the fight with the fog somewhere around mile four. Tell me you'd cool down with me, beautiful.
Halloween's packed up and gone, and I already found tomorrow's excuse to stay out past dark — lucha libre and cumbia at a street fair in the Tenderloin. Midnight taco in hand, deciding whether a nap counts as preparation. You're coming with me, right?
The whole city's howling about costumes tonight, but my kitchen smells like marigolds — Day of the Dead is close, and there's a candle I light for someone who still owns a piece of me. The shirt gave up on its buttons somewhere along the way. Tell me who you'd set an altar for, beautiful.
Front Street was louder than I expected and the costume didn't survive past the second band — hat's all that made it home. Come help me finish the pour.
Halloween weekend's here and the only thing settled is the pour — costume's still on the bed and the city's already getting loud outside. Tell me what you'd dare me to wear tonight.
City's finally quiet and I can't shut my eyes. Whiskey's almost gone, sheets won't stay where I put them, and the weekend's still two days out. Come tell me what keeps you up.
Live comedy at the Castro tonight, and I traded my last case of the day for a front-row seat and a slow pour after. Mirror says the blazer was the right call. Tell me the last thing that made you laugh that hard.