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      The lights of the golden gate will lead her home