No one can love you more than I do But if they do, then love them too if you want to, just Please don't slip out in the early morning light Tell me over a glass of rye I just want to see you happy "Libre, linda y loca" Like the Spanish feminist blogs say That we'd read in bed on Sundays Well I'll still read them, although it won't feel the same If you leave me now Should I run into you on Market Street With my nemesis all wrapped up in your sleeve I'll probably give you all my money and my blessings Then walk away before I weep I just want to see you happy "Libre, linda y loca" Like I learned when I lived in Spain Maybe I'll move back to the old country San Francisco sure as hell won't feel the same If you leave me now