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
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