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Next door to the Jefferson Airplane: 341 Willard North

by Ernesto Diaz-Infante

Intro 01:03
Smile at paintings and artifacts Play tricks upon storytellers Revolutionize warriors and shamans
Animals, The guardian spirits, Companions on the journey Through a "lost" America
In my dream I screamed at you While you buried your face in a pillow From the darkly lit stale air I dramatically departed The suddenness and surprise Felt great until I wanted to swim back But I was at pool with a heavy knapsack I walked with a broken sandal In the fog this morning With your hard cock at my hip My anger lingered And then dissolved © by Marjorie Sturm
Surrounded in this city By people with a lack of purpose I'm sure most would cough back their cappuccinos If you gave them a cause to die for Stripped bare, we're all scared What a long hike ahead of us All of this investigation An unstable, unsteady treacherously slow Spiritual ascent towards... Towards... Do you have the right sexy San Francisco style? Sleek, slim, fast enough? Are you oozing, alluding, deluding That all you want to do is get naked in bed? On the streets The eyes meet. We are unfolding like grand carpets And who will march on top of us? We are unravelling like balls of string And who will play with us? We are transcending our cultures, Seeking the source And simultaneously finding it difficult To get to the post office To buy stamps Oh, the horror of it all! That pragmatic paralysis that lets us View our lives for what they really are Sitting alone on icebergs with frozen fingertips We begin again. What will distract me from my discipline? My unstable, unsteady treacherously slow Spiritual ascent towards... Towards... A joint. A beer. A cigarette. A sleek, silk shirt for the seduction Give me sexual distraction I want some immediate satisfaction I need some immediate satisfaction We shop until we drop and We're all in high school again "There were lots of pretty people there reading Rolling Stone, reading Vogue." Ah, but at least now there is an edge. We are saved from living lives as wind-up toys Even if we too break down occasionally All eyes on me The energy-attention fills me The sound of applause fills me Clap Clap Clap I pig out on this Or walk away with self-degrading thoughts I think I love you I think I really do But forever exhaust me Turns me black, then brown, then yellow, then pale I see no movement, no mania, just mothers Don't tire me with your truths I am delighted in my delusions I will get to where I am going, And I don't care if I arrive on time ©Marjorie Sturm
San Francisco is hot San Francisco is satiated San Francisco now drinks fine wine with the scene San Francisco has taken off the young woman's new soul San Francisco awakes sleeping choked in the mar Less joy suddenly is soaked from the rich And the ignorance and the wisdom Of happy San Francisco Are the air and the dirty water Are the ugliness and the evil Of her satiated consumers Laugh from frustration San Francisco You who are dead with a ghost who is equal And in front of the lushness of your rosiness and your gluttony Nothing that is animal is hidden from your aura San Francisco, my beautiful village Soft as a hair weak as a hand Artful and ignorant We do bear justice For us it is so many simplicities Will you strangle yourself San Francisco? San Francisco dulled like trash Their dying jadedness We captured ourselves from sunshine and liveliness Sisters let us not have complacency They who are protected With cell-phones and fashion and etiquette A wave washes down out their skins Their darkness returns forward to them The worst of them have been born for them And our breathe then lost their minds And it is night, many more a San Francisco night The eve of millennium tension The object of autumn ancient dead Purposeful debility has the best of you These refugees, our friends If we can't intuit If we are unable of intuiting Will fall down. ©Marjorie Sturm
Zip French modernism Verify mannequins Jilt Spanish landscapes Quench idiosyncratic composers
Vanish the patron saint of America Vaporize composer-songwriters Vary nude exotic landscpaes


released August 1, 2003

Ernesto Diaz-Infante: vocals, guitars, violin, 4-track manipulations and lyrics.
Marjorie Sturm: flute, voice and lyrics.

Composed/mixed: March - June 2003, San Francisco, California USA.
Released by Imvated


all rights reserved



Ernesto Diaz-Infante San Francisco, California

Ernesto Diaz-Infante’s musical compositions span a broad perspective: transcendental piano, noise, improvised music, avant- garde guitar, field recordings, and experimental song. He received his MFA from CalArts in Music Composition, where he studied with Stephen L. Mosko and Wadada Leo Smith. He lives in San Francisco with filmmaker Marjorie Sturm and their son and daughter. ... more

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