She is a weaver Through her hands the bright thread travels Blue green water, willows weeping, silver stars
She sings and sighs as the shuttle flies Through the yarn like a Kerry dancer Pink and purple velvet red for a lover's bed
Living north of San Francisco With a man who built his house alone Living peaceful in the country The lights of the golden gate will lead her home
She is a spinner In her hands the wooden wheel turns the wool around Then around again
A gypsy from Bolinas Sits and plays the mandolin Faces smile in the firelight of a foggy night
Living north of San Francisco Sometimes it's nice to be alone She says, it's peaceful where she is living The lights of the golden gate will lead her home
You can see the bridges of the city Hanging in the air by steel and stone She says, it's peaceful where she's living The lights of the golden gate will lead her home
She is a weaver Through her hand the bright thread travels Blue green water, willows weeping, silver stars
She is my sister The baby born when I was older Her hands are light, her hair is bright as the summer sun
Living north of San Francisco Sometimes it's nice to be alone She says, it's peaceful in the country The lights of the golden gate will lead her home