The Magistrate of the Golden Gate,
who draped his canopy from bars on high?
He bagged a ride on a steaming freight.

And for a crooked song rendered he went
For he chose to camp under the sky,
The Magistrate of the Golden Gate.

Not only some lowly incompetent,
but one who the world will never satisfy.
He bagged a ride on a steaming freight

Because he longed to fold the night as his tent,
longed to hold the world in his eye,
The Magistrate of the Golden Gate

Became the Lord of the park of Kent
and whistling to the bridge goodbye,
he bagged a ride on a steaming freight

He pities the man tied and pent
who sleeps beneath a single sky.
Magistrate of the Golden Gate?
He bagged a ride on a steaming freight.