Weekend in The City
Words and music by Escandon/Phillips
Special guest Katy Escandon
(For this epic, San Francisco is "the City"...or as it usually capitalized in the local paper, "The City")
ACT 1 - Entering The City by the 101
The City is a knockout on this September day
This ragtag Angelino has driven a long way
As the sun is rising over Berkeley hills, there’s something faintly brewing giving me the chills
But I’ve come this far, and I’m too far gone to worry about what’s to come
The bars will not be open for hours more to come
So I drove up a crooked street and headed for the sun
Parked below the tower on Telegraph Hill, hopped aboard a cable car and rode until
I crossed Divisidero toward the panhandle, found the Haight quiet as a wax candle
ACT 2 - Girls in Golden Gate Park
Voices fill the morning with soft sounds throughout the park
Pleased to lure this stranger, pleased to flirt and feel the sparks
We have sung you here throughout the night time
We can tell a good heart from a creep
You look like you haven’t slept in ages
Come to the Tenderloin and sleep
Voices so angelic, smiles beatific
Troubles long forgotten, feeling quite terrific
We have sung you here throughout the night time
We are not the strangers that we seem
You look like you haven’t slept in ages
Come to the Tenderloin and dream
ACT 3 - The Thelonious Monks
You are very welcome to our humble abode
Fifteen true believers who walk a different road
Our women emissaries, and we apothecaries
Brewing subtle ecstasies amid sonic complexities
And if you want to trip the life fantastic
Come see just what we mean by being monastic
Because this is the Temple of Thelonious
One drop, and you’ll certainly be joining us
The potion isn’t bitter, in fact it verged on sweet
Such a strange sensation spreading head to feet
Fantastical visions blurring with the true
Could have been one minute or a year or two
If you want to trip the life fantastic
Come see just what we mean by being monastic
Because this is the Temple of Thelonious
One drop, you’ll be dying to be joining us
I think we got him under
And now it’s time to plunder
ACT 4 - Tenderloin Townie Tells It
You better take care of your wallet
Take care of your purses too
These crazies come out of nowhere
They’re coming after you
No one can be trusted
Their mojo must be stripped
Neutralize their powers
By taking anything in their pockets
You better take care of your people
This city ain’t safe for you
These freaks are mugging everybody
At gun- and knife-point too
The threat must be resisted
The Temple must be saved
And if the cops are unlisted
Just pull their arms right out of their sockets
ACT 5 - Got to Get Out to Get Out
Awaking inside of me
I realize that there were no zombies
The girls begin to dose me
I wriggle away much too closely
Gotta get gotta get gotta get gotta get out and get going home
The men try and subdue me
But I leave them clutching my robing
This isn’t what I was seeking
To run through the city streaking
My car is parked near the Coit tower
Escaping them takes all my power
Gotta get gotta get gotta get gotta get away and get on home
I make it through alleys and dodge all the homeless
But they know this city as if they owned it
Arriving in North Beach, unexpectedly stalled
I can’t cross Columbus, there’s a cyclist wall
I’m cornered and caught thanks to Critical Mass
I slip into a Kinkos and copy my ass
Gotta get gotta get gotta get gotta get just one more copy done
ACT 6 - One Panhandle or Another
The City sure knocked me out over this warm September weekend
The body bags are filling and now my sorrow has deepened
As the sun is setting through the Golden Gate there’s nothing I can do to possibly escape
Oh I came so far and I’m too far gone and I worry ‘bout the things I’ve done
The girls begin to dose me; the men, they hold me down
Then I float above a crooked street as the wind blows me around
It wasn’t my intention to discorporate, but my body couldn’t find another good escape
I crossed dimensions narrow toward a panhandle, Ursa Major’s quiet as a wax candle