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.      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.         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.