"The Bay" as written by and Maximilian Weissenfeldt Boris Geiger....
Ladies and Gentlemen,
We will soon touch down in the beautiful Bay area,
Please lean your seats back, cut your turn tables up,
and always hold a firm and forthright position.
We ask that you permanently stow all of your baggage behind you.
With temperatures about like this, with a slight ocean breeze,
with crisp highs and deep lows.
It's been our pleasure serving it, and we appreciate you riding high for the team.
Ladies and Gentlemen, it's a new day.

Where the people are intelligent, articulate, eloquent,
artistic, hard-working and diligent, both progressive and politically spirited(ed), definitely in possession of the ill-latent element, we hella independent,
more than a little bit critical of the political system,
and nobody bullshittin' the Bay, that aint the way we livin',
women got that smart-ass charm, so uninhibited,
they always catch us men off guard, but cool to kick it with.
We hold a certain love for our own, known as Bay-love,
but if push comes to shove we won't hesitate to raise up,
we aint afraid of funk, the bay was made of funk,
they say we help create the flow, baby take it from this native son.
I dedicate this one to every neighborhood on every side of each bridge,
Globally we known for bein' soulfully distinct, culturally rich, totally unique, emotionally I'm linked to the place I'm from,
that's why I named this one:

The Bay... The Bay...
The Bay... The Bay...

Now I grew up in this area from a very early age,
it aint occurred to me the world could be much bigger than the Bay.
Now I've journeyed around the Earth and I can certainly say,
If I'm lucky they'll bury me here, I'll hit the pearly gates..
I spent my early days in Berkley getting thoroughly blazed,
could have very well been worse but I was mercifully saved.
The Bay taught me how to persevere, endure and maintain,
despite adversity, courageously with purpose and strength.
The entrepreneurial attitude we have will serve us very well,
with very little we're able to adapt.
From independent record labels, news papers and stands,
explorin' every avenue, nobody gave us a hand.
From the mom and pop burger spots, record shops, restaurants, auto-body shops, flea-markets and BART parking lots.
Some parts is large and yo we all want homes there, some parts is hard even the fog don't go there.

The Bay... The Bay...
The Bay... The Bay...

Players in Gators, Hippies in Dickies, Asians with Pagers,
Heathen and fiends, straight makers and demonstrators,
Day laborer slash caterer slash bass player
slash waiter slash painter slash whatever pays in cash.
A's, Raiders, and Giants, Sharks, Warriors, and 49ers,
the birthplace of defiance, earthquakes and choirs,
two guys inside a blue painted Yukon, who grind,
suitcases full of Tupac bootlegs in a shoebox, "you break it you buy it."
Liquor stores, record stores, thrift stores,
vacant sign in a second story red Victorian,
Picket lines, E-40/Too short lyrics, American spirits,
New Ports, shoe stores, mixed marriage and new courts,
Spinners that don't spin, women that don't bend,
beat poets, weed growers, heat holders,
each culture represent the way it ought to be home.
They callin' me back, the ocean lullabyin' me is where my soul will always be.

The Bay... The Bay...
The Bay... The Bay...


Lyrics submitted by azwethinwkeiz, edited by JamieCranberry

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