What's there to live for?
Who needs the peace corps?
Think I'll just drop out
I'll go to Frisco, buy a wig
And sleep on Owsley's floor

Walked past the wig store
Danced at the Fillmore
I'm completely stoned
I'm hippy and I'm trippy
I'm a gypsy on my own
I'll stay a week and get the crabs
And take a bus back home
I'm really just a phony
But forgive me 'cause I'm stoned

Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
Go to San Fransisco...

How I love ya, how I love ya
How I love ya, how I love ya, Frisco!
How I love ya, how I love ya
How I love ya, how I love ya
Oh, my hair's getting good in the back!

Every town must have a place
Where phony hippies meet
Psychedelic dungeons
Popping up on every street
Go to San Fransisco...

Hotcha!

[spoken]

First I'll buy some beads
And then perhaps a leather band
To go around my head
Some feathers and bells
And a book of Indian lore
I will ask the Chamber of Commerce
How to get to Haight Street
And smoke an awful lot of dope
I will wander around barefoot
I will have a psychedelic gleam in my eye at all times
I will love everyone, I will love the police
As they kick the shit out of my in the street
I will sleep...
I will... I will go to a house
That's, that's what I will do
I will go to a house
Where there's a rock 'n roll band
'Cause the groups all live together
And I will join a rock 'n roll band
I will be their road manager
And I will stay there with them
And I will get the crabs
But I won't care

[From the 1967 release 'We're Only In It For The Money']