BJH - Fiction: The Streets Of San Francisco
Track #11, XII
On a [D]cold misty night
At the [E]corner of Haight
She [Em]stood with a Colt Forty-[D]Five
The [D]gun in her hand
A[E]waiting her man
A [Em]victim to take by sur[D]prise
She s the [D]Golden [A]Gate Park [G]killer
She s the [D]scourge of [A] Frisco [G]bay
Where she [D]got herself beat [G]up and left for [A]dead
By a [D]man she [A]felt true [G]love for
But [D]who left [A]her out of [G]hand
Now [D]she s out to take re[G]venge on every [A]man
As she [D]stands there with a [G]pistol in her [D]hand
The [D]victim arrives
She [E]looks in his eyes
He [Em]goes for the gun in her [D]hand
Karl [D]Malden was great
But [E]just a bit late
And [Em]got it right between the [D]eyes
She s the [D]Golden [A]Gate Park [G]killer
She s the [D]scourge of [A] Frisco [G]bay
Where she [D]got herself beat [G]up and left for [A]dead
By a [D]man she [A]felt true [G]love for
But [D]who left [A]her out of [G]hand
Now [D]she s out to take re[G]venge on every [A]man
As she [D]stands there with a [G]pistol in her [D]hand