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                                        Intro: C   F   C   F

      C               
          We spent July in a Berkeley basement,
      F
          Half read books, and bold declarations.
      Am
          There was so much I didn't believe in
                 F
          And then, there was you.
      C
          You made me brave, you made me stupid
      F
          Gave me this skin, that I could move in.
      Am                                                      F
          We're gonna leave them where they stand
  
          Leave them where they 

          C                   G
          Love, no one cares 
                          Am                           F
          About the stories they're not in.
                C                   F
          We'll fade out to whispers,
                     Am                                  F
          It's the last days of summer in San Francisco.

C   F

      C         
        The kitchen's cold and the tea kettle whistles.
      F
        The J-Church rolls and rattles our windows.
      Am                                                  F
        There's no nostalgia here; it's just now, baby, now.
      C
        I was a fire that you started
      F
        For once, I knew everything that I wanted.
      Am                                                    F
        We're gonna leave them where they stand,

        Leave them where they 

          C                   G
          Love, no one cares 
                          Am                           F
          About the stories they're not in.
                C                   F
          We'll fade out to whispers,
                     Am                                  F                      C   G
          It's the last days of summer in San Francisco,
                     Am                                  F
          It's the last days of summer in San Francisco.

          C                   G
          Love, no one cares 
                          Am                           F
          About the stories they're not in.
                C                   F
          We'll fade out to whispers,
                     Am                                  F                      C   G
          It's the last days of summer in San Francisco,
                     Am                                  F
          It's the last days of summer in San Francisco.