There Are Wilted Flower Pedals

It was early Sunday morning
Some forty years ago
It was a lazy sleep in kind of morning
But I was up and about
I had seen Janis Joplin the night before
At the Avalon Ballroom
And her song Summer Time filled my heart

I remember taking the cable car
To the old bohemian
Jack Karouac section of the city
I was meeting some fellow chess gamblers
To hopefully make some money
My women was on her way to the Off Broadway
Where she was about making money

That night if we were lucky
We would have dinner on Polk Street
Just around the corner from our apartment
We would walk home through

The hoards of male prostitutes
It was always a surreal scene
We would fall into bed with effervescence