Assembly Point
[Instrumental Intro] (syncopated UK funky rhythm, deep elastic sub pulse, muted low percussion, sparse cold synth stabs) [Cold Open - calm female spoken] Two sixteen... Fire alarm... Nobody looks good at two sixteen. [Verse 1] Barefoot guy from fourteen C Underneath the pharmacy sign Someone brought a glass of wine Someone left their keys inside Woman from the seventh floor Has her cat inside a carrier Little boy in dinosaur shoes Sleeping on his father’s shoulder One sock No coat Phone at three percent Blue lights wash across the windows While the building manager Walks around with a clipboard Trying to remember everyone “Fourteen?” “Here.” “Fifteen?” Nothing. “Fifteen?” A hand goes up From somewhere near the bins [Hook 1 - short, restrained] Assembly point Faces from the elevator Standing in the rain Assembly point I know every door Not one of their names [Long Instrumental Break] (circular UK funky percussion, elastic sub groove, clipped cold chords, abrupt negative-space cuts) [Verse 2] Twenty-two comes down at last Still wearing his sleep mask Someone lends a coat To someone Neither one can name The woman with the cat asks me Which floor I’m on “Eight.” She looks up. “Oh. Me too.” We both laugh A little longer Than the joke deserves Across the road A taxi slows Sees fifty people in pajamas Keeps going [Resident Roll Call - increasingly rhythmic, percussion building underneath] “Thirty-eight?” Here “Thirty-nine?” Here “Forty?” Not yet “Forty-one?” Wrong building “Forty-two?” That’s me “Forty-three?” He’s away “Forty-four?” Here “Forty-five?” Coming now “Forty-six?” Here “Forty-seven?” ... Has anybody seen forty-seven? [Rhythmic Drop - sub and percussion only] Nobody has [Hook 2 - expanded, more melodic] Assembly point Everybody outside tonight People I have passed a hundred times Suddenly have names Assembly point No smoke No flames Just sirens in the rain For ten strange minutes We all live in the same place [Instrumental Space] (stripped sub pulse, suspended dark synth harmony) [Spoken Sequence - almost dry voice] Two forty-one. Fire chief comes back. Sensor fault. False alarm. Someone says: “That’s reassuring.” Someone else says: “Not really.” The doors unlock. Nobody moves. Not immediately. [Pause] Then: “Have a good night.” “Yeah. You too.” [Final Vocal - new melody, no chorus reprise] By eight tomorrow morning We’ll be dressed We’ll have coffee We’ll check our phones The lift will stop at seven She’ll get in With no cat this time We’ll both look up Recognize each other And say: “Morning.” Probably. [Final Instrumental] (circular UK funky groove gradually fragmenting into sparse sub, muted chords and isolated percussion)
