Texty: Linda Ronstadt. Talk to Me of Mendocino.

I bid farewell to the state of old New York
My home away from home
In the state of New York I came of age
When first I started roaming

And the trees grow high in New York state
And they shine like gold in the autumn
Never had the blues from whence I came
But in New York state, I got 'em

Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait, must I follow
Won't you say come with me

And it's on to south bend, Indiana
Flat out on the western plain
Rise up over the rockies and down on into California
Out to where but the rocks again

And let the sun set on the ocean
I will watch it from the shore
Let the sun rise over the redwoods
I'll rise with it till I rise no more

Talk to me of Mendocino
Closing my eyes I hear the sea
Must I wait, must I follow
Won't you say come with me