The day is nearly over
You have so little time
The needle makes you shiver
Tomorrow is the wind

Decay is for the dying
Gulp life with urgent greed  
Ecstasy is for the flying
It will not stay the same

And the angels live among us
In unsuspecting bodies

Enchained to past and future
A hollow set of teeth
Dirty knives and folding tables
Sunflowers without seeds

Protected by an absence
Between your ribs a metal box
Is it easier for lovers
Who hide from what’s to come? 

They don’t know whether
They move among the living or the dead

They say some stars are waiting
In the basement you keep closed
Joy drops like a banner 
Burns us like the rain

They climb into the mountains
and no step rings back

Decay

I know the skies bursting with lightning
The surf, the currents, I know the evening
At times I have seen what man thought he saw // he thought he saw

The slow rhythms are streaking daylight
And stronger than gin, vaster than music
The bitter red of love ferments // oh red our love ferments			

If I want a water of Europe, it is the black	
Cold puddle where in the twilight
A squatting child full of sadness releases
A boat as fragile as a May butterfly
No longer can I follow
			
In the wake of the cotton boats
Nor cross through the pride of flags and flames	
Nor swim under the terrible eyes of prison ships

I know the skies bursting with lightning
The surf, the currents, I know the evening
At times I have seen what man thought she saw // she thought she saw

Drunken Boat

Lyrics:

Who would love the dragon
child with quickening breath
two red rocket shoes, too good to lose
who’ll dance herself to death

Unsettle the familiar
let down thrice unspoken
she unfolds her hair, no longer there
the story which is broken

Wasted elation, no insulation
emotions for any occasion
fire back, you see
you see, occasionally

Dishes pile high as
the very tallest tower
in which you find within your mind
the very smallest bower

There you could spin a lifetime
soothing fucking thorns
the witch, your master Mary
has nothing except scorn

Wasted elation, no insulation
emotions for any occasion
fire back, you see
you see, occasionally

(Oh my lady)
It breathes, the law
And those it protects
(Laid waste, laid waste to me)
It sings inside

(Oh wasted lady)
And they are like flowers
(Laid me waste, wasted me)
Chaste as glass

(Oh my lay me)
And their souls shall flow
(Waste me, lady)
Like piss
in the streets of the great city

(Oh oh oh my lady, waste for me
Oh my lady
Laid me
Waste)

Fairytale Ending

Abolitionist anthem inspired by queer ASBO-kid of the Paris Commune, Arthur Rimbaud.

Lyrics:

I know the skies bursting with lightning
The surf, the currents, I know the evening
At times I have seen what man thought he saw / thought he saw

The slow rhythms are streaking daylight
And stronger than gin, vaster than music
The bitter red of love ferments / ferments our love ferments

And if I want a water of Europe, it is the black 
Cold puddle where in the twilight
A squatting child full of sadness 
Releases a boat as fragile as a May butterfly
No longer can I follow
In the wake of the cotton boats
Nor cross through the pride of flags and flames
Nor swim under the terrible eyes of prison ships

I know the skies bursting with lightning
The surf, the currents, I know the evening
At times I have seen what man thought she saw 
At times I have seen what man thought she saw 

At times I have seen what man thought she saw

A song inspired by Ali Smith’s novel The Accidental. The book is about a mysterious woman named Amber or Alhambra, who shows up uninvited at the holiday home of a bougie family in Norfolk and fucks shit up (in a liberating way).

Lyrics:

My name is Alhambra, conceived in that palace 
Of sun spilling stars through the rocks on the floors,
The town’s only picture house, that night in ‘68
When voices still boomed modern love behind walls.

I am the Summer stretched May to October,
The smell of the manifold, sweat equals being
A fast breathing aggregate, infinite sequence,
We only stop flying to rob duty free. 

And on the train home we bang stumps on the tables,
sing faster, all moving, in bright waves together 
All beaten, together. Fuck feeling, together. 
The mud in our lungs and the warmth of the living

We build on each other and want to be built on,
At angles that elevate pressure to grace, 
There will be a glory we ask of each other,
While he’s eating chocolate pears off my plate.

You are afraid people are nothing but shadows,
I am the accident nothing sustains,
Afraid or imagine, we’ll break in new guises
The best films show heavy with scratches like rain.

And on the train home we bang stumps on the tables,
sing faster, all moving, in bright waves together 
All beaten, together. Fuck feeling, together. 
Imagine our beautiful fists in the dark.

And on the train home we bang stumps on the tables,
sing faster, all moving, in bright waves together 
All beaten, together. Fuck feeling, together. 
The mud in our lungs and the warmth of the living
credits

The Accidental

Image text from:
Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments: Intimate Histories of Riotous Black Girls, Troublesome Women, and Queer Radicals.
By Saidiya Hartman.

Body Was Made (Ezra Furman cover)

Nottingham band lamenting defeat. aggravated abolition. apocalypse pop.

Stolen Goods

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