feeling less than my ordinary self i guess i must be getting older
the fog already heavy on my mind evokes a time that's turning colder
at breakfast the effect is picturesque 
the window opens up and lets in 
the santa ana winds again

she's a silent love song
never stays long
does not belong to any person 
though she's opening the curtains in my head
she's a kind of quiet
and always hides it in a flame
she's certainly a hurricane

strange how such a gust of gentile breeze can ravage hearts across california
you start to grow accustomed to her turn around
she's gone of course she warned ya
she sometimes passes in a single night
and other times she lasts the weekend

she's a silent love song
never stays long
does not belong to any person 
though she's opening the curtains in my head
she's a kind of quiet
and always means just what she says
she's certainly a hurricane in bed

and tangles up inside and under covers
angled in her way seen as a [bad word] but two lovers we're always in the end
and the santa ana winds again

i've been stealing hearts 
where i don't belong (she's a silent love song)
i'm breathing hard (does not belong to any person) 
when [bad word] on strong (like a hurricane)
the more i love (you never have to say you're sorry)
the less i know (Anna don't cry)
Anna don't go