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Annie Lanzillotto | Carry My Coffee (Live)

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Annie Lanzillotto Band on Bandcamp Annie Lanzillotto Annie Lanzillotto Band's "BLUE PILL" Clean and Humble Studio Lori Goldston Annie Lanzillotto's memoir, "L Is For Lion: An Italian Bronx Butch Freedom Memoir" (SUNY PRESS 2013)

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Spoken Word: With Music Avant Garde: Experimental Moods: Type: Vocal
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Carry My Coffee (Live)

by Annie Lanzillotto

Raw Bronx Roar. Vocals and cello. Live and Uncut. War. Paranoia. Triangle Fire. One girl's birth. Soaring spirituals where the moon talks and echoes inside you. It's all about the echo inside you.
Genre: Spoken Word: With Music
Release Date: 

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  Song Share Time Download
clip
1. Carry My Coffee (Live)
20:49 album only
clip
2. Mr. Butterfly(Live)
13:09 album only
clip
3. Ballad for Joe Zito(Live)
17:55 album only
clip
4. North Too Long(Live)
10:11 album only
clip
5. Mighty Caroline Rose(Live)
9:48 album only
clip
6. This Moon(Live)
6:41 album only
clip
7. Command My Soul(Live)
9:43 album only
Downloads are available as MP3-320 files.

ABOUT THIS ALBUM


Album Notes
Annie Lanzillotto's
Carry My Coffee

A collaboration of words and cello with Lori Goldston.

Annie Lanzillotto, vocals, lyrics & melodies
Lori Goldston, cello
Pasquale Cangiano, trumpet
Choral work, by the audience.
Recorded live at Saint Ann & The Holy Trinity Church, Brooklyn. February 5th, 2012. Hosted by Reverend John E. Denaro.
Recorded and Engineered by Clean and Humble Studios, Brooklyn; Pasquale Cangiano, with Dom Galati, and Benish Farouqi.
Event Production Team: Audrey Kindred, Emily Jordan Agnes Kunkel, Rachel Lanzillotto
Album Cover: Photo by Audrey Kindred, Layout by Annie, with help from Lisa Cichetti

Lori Goldston was coming to New York, from Seattle. She called me and said --Let's do a duet. I called my Kindergarten sweetheart, Rev. Johnny Denaro who wanted to create more cultural events at his church, Saint Ann & The Holy Trinity Church in Brooklyn Heights. I met up with him and he let me hang out in the sanctuary. I yelled in the sanctuary and listened to the echo. The echo inside me. The echo in the church. That's what prayer is to me. Some kind of echo. I walked around and listened to my voice bounce off the stone walls and floor. I felt like I was inside an immense sand castle with tall walls of stained glass. I told Lori the concert was a go. When she flew in, we sat down at Uncle George's Restaurant in Astoria. I brought a dozen songs to the table. We ate, talked for a couple of nights, tried out some chords, and I sang the songs to her. Lori encouraged me to do long forms of the verses for this concert. To let the monologues come in, and the verses extend, and to not cut and trim my words. She reminded me that monologues, is what I do. We approached the concert with a focus on listening to each other. My stories, and her soaring cello.

Lori Goldston's cello soars, and Pasquale Cangiano's Pocket Trumpet roars


LYRICS

All lyrics copyright 2012 Annie Lanzillotto

Track 1: CARRY MY COFFEE Backstory: I wrote this song about my aunt, may she rest in peace. Her story, what I know of it, doesn't let me rest. She was strong and obstinate, and only God knows the things she endured. Some of the words in this song, she said to me directly, and anyone who knew her will recognize: "Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities."

VERSE I
Apollonia Lanzillotto was a donut visionary,
In the Bronx where visions necessary.

After World War II, she had her vision,
And like all luminaries she was met with derision.

when she said
"New Yorkers can learn to take a coffee on the go,"
Everyone around her said, "No No No,

Morning coffee is drunk at home,
It's unheard of to take a coffee in the street and roam."

"A coffee and a donut on their way to work,
New Yorkers will love, in the subway, a cup of fresh perk."

CHORUS
I carry my coffee baby, I carry my coffee
In the street where its sweet, I carry my coffee.
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --yeah
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --no no
In the street where its sweet, I carry my coffee.

VERSE 2
Apollonia married a tall handsome Tony.
He wore his military dress for their matrimony.

Arm in arm they marched under an aisle of crossed swords,
Adopted a beautiful baby boy and thanked the lord.

Opened the donut shop in Morris Park,
Walked to work in the pre-dawn Bronx dark.

Tony had a good sense of humor,
and Battle Fatigue, so goes the rumor.

World War Two was over in civilian minds.
Soldiers' sufferings, few recognized the signs.

Tony took a strap into the donut shop kitchen,
Hung himself on the spot, they were 'sposed to get rich in.

(beat)

Coffee and donuts - swept the nation,
Under other names profits incorporation.

It all started in the Bronx with a girl on time
The family beauty. What happened to her almond eyes?

CHORUS
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --yeah
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --no no
In the street where its sweet, I carry my coffee
I carry my coffee baby, I carry my coffee
In the street where its sweet. I carry my coffee

VERSE III
Apollonia broke out of Bronx State,
Jacoby and Bellevue and followed her fate.

Made a career as a Crossing Guard in the 4-3 precinct,
Saw cops in action, crooked foolish indecent.

Began to take photos, follow cops around town.
Snapped every little thing going down,

Gave her superiors photos of patrol cars,
Proved cops on duty, were drinking in bars.

Walked up and down the streets of New York,
In the Bronx and Manhattan, cops started to talk.

Then one day a car came at her,
ran her down, broke both her legs.

CHORUS
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --yeah
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities, --no no
In the street where its sweet, I carry my coffee
I carry my coffee baby, I carry my coffee
In the street where its sweet. I carry my coffee

VERSE IV
Apollonia rose on, two crutches,
Walked the streets like a homeless Duchess

I found her in Port Authority, round 1992,
she said, "I'm not myself. Life's what happens to you."

In her black leather cap, she still had plenty of fight,
Silver paint on her face in the street light.

BRIDGE
(rant)
You know my wristwatch is at City Hall
with two Bronx precincts inscribed on it.
I was going to the cops’ reunion to see cops
I worked with in front of City Hall.
There was somebody in plain clothes
who resembled a motorcycle cop.
This is before the hit and run.
I take off my wristwatch to show him.
They give me the runaround.
There was a felonious assault.
I told the I.G.

(sing)
You know 4-3 cops don’t come 'round here no more.
You know 4-3 cops don’t come 'round here no more.
4-3 cops don’t come, 4-3 cops don’t come,
4-3 cops don't come 'round here no more.
I need a whole makeover. I am not myself. (X3)
Don't get funny with me. (X8)

CHORUS
I carry my coffee baby. I carry my coffee
In the street where its sweet. I carry my coffee
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities - yeah
Don't go beatin my chances and grabbin my opportunities - no no
In the street where its sweet
I carry my coffee

-----------------------------------------

TRACK 2: MR. BUTTERFLY Backstory: I wrote this song about my father. I was meditating with my guitar and my dogs Scaramooch and Cherub in Williamstown, Mass on Johnny Denaro's porch. An orange butterfly came. And so, did this song. Lyrics and melody all in one shot. I added the rants later.

CHORUS
Sometimes I see my Dad as a butterfly
As a butterfly. As a butterfly.
Imagine my Dad as a butterfly.
In and out the sky. Mr. Butterfly.

VERSE 1
He taught me Divine Wind was a
Kamikaze blowing up in the sky.
Imagine my Dad. Orange butterfly.

CHORUS
Sometimes I see my Dad
and all the big tough guys
as orange butterflies
in and out the sky

VERSE 2
(speak)
The sky’s a dirty grey
The guy next to me says,
"Hey Lanzi, it looks like rain."
No. That ain’t rain.

BRIDGE
that ain’t rain
that ain’t rain
that ain’t rain.

CHORUS
Sometimes I see my Dad
orange butterfly
blowing up in the sky

VERSE 3
(speak)
“This is the hour I was born for.”
A battle against evil.
A battle against fascism.
This is what I trained for.
This is the hour I was born for.
This is the hour I was born for.

BRIDGE
(sing)
That ain’t rain.
That ain’t rain.
That ain’t rain.

--------------------------------

Track 3: (two songs on one track) GIRLS, GIRLS and BALLAD FOR JOE ZITO Backstory: I wrote "Girls, Girls" for the 99th Memorial of the Triangle Fire in NYC. My band sang it in the street. The next day I got a Facebook message from the granddaughter of the heroic elevator operator Joe Zito who saved many girls from the fire. The granddaughter said she'd been in the crowd and was moved when I had the crowd yell "Thanks Joe" in honor of her grandfather. She said in all the years of memorials, she'd never heard anyone thank him. This stuck with me. I told my mother about it and heard myself say, "he's an unsung hero." The next sentence followed, "I am going to sing him."


GIRLS, GIRLS

Girls Girls, Teenage Immigrants
Tell me where did you work last night?
(Somebody tell me. C’mon Rose! Sarah! Daisy!)
Washington and Greene, In the factory
Where the door kept locked by greed.

O Girls Girls! Teenage Immigrants
Tell me where did you go in the fire?
(Tessie! Caterina! Antonietta! Somebody tell me)
I jumped to the street
Where my bones and concrete meet.
The sewer, my blood runs through.

Girls O! Girls! Teenage Immigrants
Tell me of your New York Dreams.
(Rosaria! Celia! Annie! Somebody Tell me!)

(speak)
Well I ran from poverty, persecution, misery.
We were starving, needed a buck,
I got on the boat to try my luck.
Made it cross the sea!
To the wave of Liberty!
Worked the Triangle Factory
in the New York Garment Industry!
Where amber waves of the flame caught me!
So I dove for the sky
Broken window promises
Spring air!
I prayed, “New York City! Catch me!”

Oh Girls Girls! Teenage Immigrants
Tell me, how burning hot is greed?
(C’mon tell me! Sadie! Lina! Josie! Margaret!)
Well, our breath caught the fire,
Hair and lace, the flames,
And Cinders! Became our names.

-------

BALLAD FOR JOE ZITO Backstory: see note above for "Girls, Girls"

CHORUS
Lemme tell you ‘bout Joe Zito,
The kinda man you wanna know.
Selfless Acts of Courage were his destiny.
Elevator Man, --Triangle Factory.

VERSE 1
Born the first of September, 1883, fifteen minutes past ten.
Giuseppe Alessandro Zito, sweet green eyes, he’d grow to be the noblest of men.
At 18 he left Sere, Provincia di Salerno, Italy,
Came to L’America. Got a job at the Triangle Factory.
Joe ran one of two passenger elevator cars,
The other was run by a man named Gaspare Mortillalo.
But factory workers were treated as freight,
Backdoor elevators took their 500 bodies up to floors nine and eight.

Joe and Gaspare brought to the executive floor, bosses, foreladies, and buyers,
And In twin bowler hats, The Shirtwaist Kings: union busters, door lockers, and liars.
One Payday in March, a Saturday night, fifteen minutes to quittin’ time,
all Hell broke loose when Joe heard “Fire!” Glass smashing, fists bashing, way up high.
Joe glanced over at Gaspare and they locked eyes,
And without a single word, pulled their cars up to the fast fast fire in the sky.
Up Up Up to save lives, all the workers were screaming, distraught.
Joe Zito never gave his own safety one single thought.

CHORUS
Lemme tell you ‘bout Joe Zito,
The kinda man you wanna know.
Selfless Acts of Courage were his destiny.
Elevator Man, --Triangle Factory.

VERSE 2
Girls dove into Joe’s elevator car clutching shears and scissors,
Another guy woulda minded his own biz’iness.
Italian American to the core,
Joe Zito never ran for the door.
Up Up Up Joe Joe Joe. Into fire higher higher he climbed,
He went back up about eighteen times.
Why didn’t Joe go up a 19th you say?
Mezzomorte at the bottom of the shaft, our Joe lay.
Elevator dropped, smashed at basement level.
Cables gave in to fire, an overloading hell hole.
Jumping on Joe’s car, girls after girls after girls after girls.
Caved the roof, flesh on fire, hair in ribbons and curls.
They dragged Joe out onto Washington Place half dead,
Rushed him to Saint Vincent’s, stab wounds on his arms ‘n forehead.
What ever happened to Gaspare?
He was last seen running into the smoke filled l’aria.

Povero Giuseppe Alessandro never recovered since he saw,
“Burning Rockets” from the 8th floor, fall.
He couldn’t forget girls trapped in flames, or
Judge Crain and his gavel saying, “Shirtwaist Kings are not to blame.”
Joe left New York City in a state of deprivation,
Shell shocked from Triangle workers’ asphyxiation ‘n decapitations.
Scarred for life, from all he saw,
Joe headed west, and seven years later, registered for the Army during The Great War.

BRIDGE
No rich man could buy Joe’s word
His green sad eyes had saw and heard. All
The papers said he died without a penny,
No bribe could change Joe’s testimony. Ah!
The Shirtwaist Kings were offering thousand dollar bribes,
While the U.S. economy was taking a great dive.
Joe kept free to tell the truth.
Shirtwaist Kings got rich off insurance loot.
And like too many of our brave
Our noble Joe was buried in an unmarked grave.

CHORUS
Lemme tell you ‘bout Joe Zito,
Italian American Hero.
Selfless Acts of Courage were his destiny.
He saved a-hun, a-hundred fifty.

OUTRO
Elevator Man. We sing your name.
Thanks Joe. (X4)


------------------------------

Track 4: NORTH TOO LONG Backstory: This song came to me in New Orleans while I was waiting at the Louis Armstrong airport for my friend Joanna Clapps Herman's flight to arrive. I'm always early. So I hang out, and let songs come to me.

CHORUS
I been north too long
I been north too long
I been north so long I forgot how to sing my song

VERSE 1
I forgot how to throw down
Forgot how to do the good things two or three times
I can’t stay up through the night now baby
Mamma come take me home

Tryin to do things right
Tryin to get things done
Tryin to be efficient
Expecting trains to come on time.
Taking a number and waiting on line.
I wanna be welcomed home

CHORUS
I been north too long
I been north too long
I been north so long I forgot how to sing my song

VERSE 2
Came down south one day.
A redhead said, “Are you gonna stay?
I live below sea level. My swamps are estuary.
Come to the Mississippi bank with me,
where ships are in the sky you’ll see.”

I’m talking Sanguinaccio
I’m talking Halelujah
Comeh chem paisana
Mangia Muffaletta Siciliana
Dove e tu soldi?
Mother Cabrini walked here
Mother Cabrini’s devotion to Il Cuore Sacro
Gave her coraggio
I’m talkin bout a town under water
I’ll take you on The Misery Tour
Baby if you’ll show me the way to doppio Cittadinanza

There’s no way up but down.
No way right but wrong
Baby I been in my brain too long.
Mamma, come take me home.
I gotta remember where I come from
In the Misery Mystery and Joy.
Sorrow and Glory
I been north too long

CHORUS
I been north too long
I been north too long.
I been north so long I forgot how to sing my song

BRIDGE
Lord knows I know how to suffer.
I died Friday and twice on Saturday I was gone.
When I release my soul
Then you’ll know where I been all along.

VERSE 4
My people came from the south in a place called Acquaviva.
They moved to the north to a place called The Bronx.
Lost our Tarantism, dabbled in Sufism,
Santeria, Voodoo Mamma Mia
Time to take me home

Ah been blamed for Columbus, blamed for Scalia
Blamed for devastation, torture, creation.
White man salvation.
Taint no plantations staining my bloodstream,
just Larvata SchiavitÚ, peons right next to you,
I throw a shoe at the same man as you!
I am butterfly shark and white tiger in one!
Frutta Strana!

I lit three candles on Saint Jude’s Altar,
green yellow and blue
For health sanity and Lord survival
Saint Jude answered calmly,
“Annie, Life is suffering, pain and misery
And you know you got to keep on going on.”

CHORUS
I been north so long
I been north so long
I been north so long,
Now, its time to sing my song.

-----------------------------------------

Track 5: MIGHTY CAROLINE ROSE Backstory: My goddaughter Melissa was giving birth. I was on retreat in the hills of Williamstown, Mass at Johnny Denaro's house. I sat on the porch and watched a baby bird hatch in a nest under the porch eave. I couldn't leave my dogs, so I stayed put, wondering, wondering, what this new baby would look like. It took my family three days to send a photo to my phone. This song came on the first day of waiting.

CHORUS
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Welcome to the world.
Welcome to the world.

VERSE 1
Enter Caroline Rose,
4.76 kilos.

She came straight from the heavens
on a day full of sevens.

After the saints day was over,
so she'd have a day all her own.

She chose an hour past midnight
To break her news to the world
Waters’ flow made everyone know
Caroline’s story was 'bout to be heard.

Caroline Rose
Mighty Caroline Rose

CHORUS
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Welcome to the world.
Welcome to the world.
Mighty Caroline Rose

VERSE 2
Do you got your Mamma’s bottom lip?
Do you got your Papa’s little nose?
What color are your eyes?
How does your voice sound?
Do you like who's around?
How do you cry?
How do you sleep?
How do you like your name? How does it fit?
How do you look at your Mamma?
How hungry are you?

You wear the crown of a new generation
Your Mom and Dad’s first creation
Now you're on your own, but we'll be around.
Caroline Rose.
Mighty Caroline Rose

CHORUS
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Welcome to the world.
Welcome to the world.
Mighty Caroline Rose

VERSE 3
Your Great Great Grandmother’s gave you their names
Carolina and Rosa were two strong dames
Came to this country with nothin, alone
Worked real hard, made The Bronx their home
Now you got their strength and bones.
Mighty Caroline Rose

But your eyes
But your eyes
But your eyes
are all your own

CHORUS
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Welcome to the world.
Welcome to the world.
Mighty Caroline Rose

BRIDGE
Keep your dreams this life !
Keep your head held high!
Feel us when you cry!
comforting you.
Caroline Rose.
Miss Caroline.

CHORUS
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Waiting to see your face
Welcome to the world. Welcome to the world.

----------------------------------------

Track 6: THIS MOON Backstory: This song came all at once as songs do, when I walk at night in the moonlight. This particular walk was in Yonkers, New York, outside my mother's apartment.

God gave me this moon
To share with you
And be benevolent as two

God gave me this sun
So I could see you
And be benevolent as one

God gave me this earth
A place to give birth
And be benevolent as three

God gave me this sea
To teach me to roar
And be benevolent as four.

God gave us these stars
To know where we are
Whether you're near or far

God gave me this street
So we could meet
And be benevolent as six.

God gave me this tree
To teach me to breathe
and be benevolent as seven.

God gave me this sky
To teach me to cry
and be benevolent as eight


God gave me this hour
To call all power
And be benevolent as nine.

God gave me this friend
So we could mend
Our hearts and minds at day's end

God gave me this work to do
To get me through
And be benevolent as eleven.

God gave me this moon.
Gave me this moon.
Gave me.
This Moon.

------------------------------------------

Track 7: COMMAND MY SOUL Backstory: I wrote these words as a poem a long time ago, around the time my Dad died in 2000. I recited this poem at his funeral. Since we were performing in a church, I decided to make a song of it, so I did what I call a Phrasewalk; I just walk and walk, reciting the words until a rhythm and melody come. I did the Phrasewalk in Yonkers, outside Mom's.

Command my soul to fruit, to flower,
Command, command my soul.
Command my soul 'til my last hour,
Command, command my soul.

Command my soul to hold heart's reign,
Rise with the winds. Rise with the rains.
Command my soul to find love's gain,
Command, command my soul.

And when my breathing heart's command
Calls legs to rise, and legs to stand,
With call unanswered by hand or hand,
Command, command my soul.

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