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Delicious Monster

by Storm the Palace

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Clive 04:52
Your name is Clive And somehow you’ve survived With me all these years Delicious monster You’re not just alive Somehow you have thrived In bedrooms and bathrooms and hallways You have clung to life I’m sorry if I’ve been cruel to you From time to time It’s only ‘cause I envy your capacity To entwine Tied you to a pole Tried to gain control But that only kept you in check For a limited while Before, once again, Your lecherous green limbs Coiled around the shoulders of my Unsuspecting friends And I wouldn’t be surprised If you outlived us all I can picture you harassing folk At my funeral
If I were a seagull, where would I roam? I’d fly in circles, ‘til I found home If I were a seal, what would I sing? l’d sing a ballad to lure you in If I were a sea-horse, what would I do? I would have babies, leave them with you If I were a sperm whale, where would I hide? I would just dive If I were a lake, under the sea I would invite eels into me They would contort in my briny depths Coil themselves into a basket of death If I were a diver, run out of breath How could I know what options were left If I were my happiness where would I be I would be anywhere but here
Where you going? You wouldn’t dare leave me My olive branch Is a shepherd’s crook Please like me Where you going? I haven’t done nothing What’ve you done To my baby? I’ll gnaw your foundations and fill you with doubt All that matters to me is who won the last bout If you give me an inch I’ll take a mile And I’d sell my soul To see your smile Where you going? Tell me three times more I need to know Why I’m so angry Don’t hate me Where you going? I can’t see the future And my past just plays peek-a-boo
The Magician 03:59
This place is an open-plan waste land Without that strange lamb Stuffy, static and sterile Without that strange child A pretty girl told you to lighten up But she didn’t see the fire that glowed In the strange, curated corners of your Administrated soul And so we go to Mexico Just like they did, those 60s kids Just like we jumped off the grid You said that I was the lover A traveller, a child, or both And maybe a little magician The archetype of office life And so we go to Glasgow Just like they did, those twenty-something kids
Splendid 03:54
We had a good innings as they say We had a good vision in those days Chasing down our moment in the sidelong sun But when it came, it was a sliding one We had a good innings as they say I have a dark picture of you these days And in the dark we look for things to constellate When all we can do is scatter our signs and wait From the south-bound carriage I saw two people scanning For gold in the fields behind an East Lothian housing estate And I remember the way that you made even The most mediocre of motorway service stations Seem splendid You said that you were fifty percent pain Fifty percent rage you can’t explain But you knew what it was to sit in your car and watch the rain And feel all these boundless things contained
We sit in coffee shops and discuss The subject of fluff We speak of our men folk then we give up She says that she loves him But at night when he’s sleeping She dreams of Captain America We sit in hipster bars and discuss If we’re poetic enough We pet our neuroses til they curl up He says that he loves her But never does anything for her That she couldn’t order online So baby come over We’ll sit on the sofa And pull the wool off of Our eyes Let’s get blood all over This lovely white sofa These old lady loafers Must die The guilt will always find you out Hang above your bed like a nebulous shroud So you might as well have something To be guilty about We sit in coffee shops and discuss The subject of lust We speak of our men folk til they give up We wouldn’t pass the Bechdale test We haven’t done our homework yet
Mrs. Blue’s packed her bags, she’s turning her back On the life in this city, it’s done in five acts And you know in her shoes you’d stay one last time But the story’s too stretched now, the thread’s grown too fine Little Ms. Green has misplaced her heart She set it down carelessly One drink too many, the rest, as they say… In her shoes you’d be a wreck She's eaten mistakes and she’s written the check It never seems totally broken It never goes neatly to plan Wind it up, wind it up, wind it up tight Your job is to soak up the fight The Duchess of Red embarked on a train A trunk full of memories is her ticket out She says, "I like bastards and bodies are safe It's your twisting words that have made me lose faith" Lady Yellow is drifting, she's thought it all through These rhythms they cannot be burning for her But she has a dragon with life in its fire Together they'll cauterize her inner liar
What did you do to-day Well I mostly stared into space I don’t have no super powers I’m just a girl who’s wrestling with the hours If I had dragon-flight I would surely dominate the skies I’d slay vampires and take them to bed Lasers would fire from my eyes But these fragile capillaries They rupture and bleed Bruise and break And eventually refuse To cooperate When she was only a child They came and told her You’ll be set aside Men in white robes, priests in white coats Nurses with needles and horoscopes Will she have six-fold strength? And fight demons by cutting off their heads? Tell me, doctor, how does this work? He just looked at her and said… Some days feel like a fractal When all I want is my own pterodactyl
The night upon the common The plane trees hang their pom-poms Not death I fear, but in disgrace Lord save us from this place If I could ride this tide of entropy Until my gloriously organised demise If I could see what the gods had in store for me I’d be fine Parakeets shriek from empty trees Challenging the wind Rats scatter into the aqueduct But the crows don’t flinch at my approach So sit inside your room Accumulating orgone If the universe tries to shake you off Just tell it who’s boss I jog across the common Avoiding all the potholes Not death I fear, but disarray Not hospices but hospitals
The Orchid 06:20
Sir, your orchid is about to flower No power on Earth could contain that birth She lies dormant months on end Leathery leaves gathering dust Moss growing in her pot Until, unbidden comes that thing Awake or asleep, in winter or spring That thrusting Call it art, call it mess Call it sheer bloody mindedness Call it inspiration, call it egotism Call it amphibious urges Sub-aqueous yearning Sir, the passion flower is dead I did it myself, severed every head But now, inside the family home Its children are growing ten-fold Call it art, call it mess Call it sheer bloody mindedness Call it narcissism, call it repetition Call it monotreme urges As something emerges Like a bird in a cage Like a prisoner in a sealed-off cave Like the beast that hasn’t been fed It may be weak, but it’s not dead yet Call it whatever you see fit The thing is, it’s not dead yet
Suddenly I'm feeling Everything I haven't felt In about a year And that's good I guess That's good I guess ‘Cause everything happens for a reason Or at least there's something to be learned From every situation No more crying in the toilets at work Give me my fucking puppy you bastard Give me my fucking puppy you bastard Finish what you started Finish what you started Give me my fucking puppy you bastard Take all the time that you need It's been a mad, mad week Take all the time that you need You've always had a genius for anxiety Just leave this toilet Leave this toilet Leave this toilet As you would wish to find it


released October 4, 2019

Sophie Dodds – vocals, guitar
Reuben Taylor – accordion, organ, harmonium, synthesizers
Willa Bews – vocals, bass
Jon Bews – vocals, violin
Alberto Bravo – vocals, drums

Words and music by Sophie Dodds
(except 'Ancient Goldfish' and 'Paintbox Ladies' - words by Willa Bews)
Arrangements by Storm the Palace

Recorded in Edinburgh, Oct 2018–May 2019
Tracks 1-3, 6, 8, 9 and 11 engineered by Graeme Young and recorded at Chamber Studio
Tracks 4, 5, 7 and 10 engineered by Reuben Taylor and recorded at Madeira Mansions
Produced by Reuben Taylor and Sophie Dodds
(with thanks to C Mantle and Gordon Webster)
Mastered by Reuben Taylor

Photography by Greg Ryan
Design by Roman Schoeneboom


all rights reserved



Storm the Palace Edinburgh, UK

Radge folk pop from Edinburgh

"Taking their cues from modern classical, left field folk, and stubborn indie songcraft, Storm The Palace vault over genre barriers without looking back."
Clash Music

We also have a bloody excellent remix album: acrerecordings.bandcamp.com/album/snow-stars-and-public-transport-the-remixes

Illustration by Faith Eliott

Photo by Lucía Balsa-Prados
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