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Here Lies Monty O'Blivion

by Monty O'Blivion

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1.
The wreckage of the past Strewn about like shards of glass Walking barefoot within my caste My entrails are my bondage Drinking black coffee in a diner on the edge of town Sitting with my demons, silent treatment, not a sound At night I’ll come out like a full moon Watch the planet die and go back to my room Sing in the forest at night The tempo set by your racing pulse The canopies block out the sunlight The water reflects back a sunken-eyed stranger A model student of underwater breathing Swimming in a rancid petrie dish Meatflower blooming in a poppy field A vital link in a community of ghosts Sex sells violence Violence rules the world But the world is ungovernable Sex sells violence Violence rules the world But the world is ungovernable How does it smell to you? It smells like death to me How does it smell to you? It smells like shit to me Sing in the forest at night The tempo set by your racing pulse The canopies block out the sunlight The water reflects back a sunken-eyed stranger
2.
WMD 05:10
Hide in a contrived identity Indulge your violent cravings Eye to screen Your country is lost To the fallacy of sunken cost Rental property Blood from a stone You’ll reap what they sow Shield them from the elements While they enjoy the fucking show Pay up to the collector What else do you got? The promise of a protector Leaving your defenses to rot Sell your body as a machine For the oligarchs, fascist libertines It feels so lonely Because we’re all alone Competing for money In the danger zone Blood from a stone You’ll reap what they sow Shield them from the elements While they enjoy the fucking show Pay up to the collector What else do you got? The promise of a protector Leaving your defenses to rot National injector Leaving your senses to rot All is legal For the ruling class Jam the rule of law Up your ass Pull back the mask Is it a face you recognize Take a look Through your new transplanted eyes Take a hammer to the walls Of your happy home Tear the copper out Sell it off to keep the fire warm US of A is the WMD US of A is the WMD US of A is the WMD US of A is the WMD
3.
You could’ve been anything You could’ve been anyone Surprise, surprise You turned out to be a dick A soulless, spine-free prick You got me questioning my faith in humanity You got me questioning my mental integrity Oh, it’s been alright these days On the mend, feeling light these days Suddenly just last night Seems my bedroom wall has grown an eye It blinks and leaks Into the floorboards I start to think There’s something wrong with me Between the slaughterhouses, the labor camps Another weapons contract rubber stamped It seems human depravity knows no bounds Lookin’ like Gregor in my bed Feelin’ like White Sands in my head You’re Henry Murray, I’m cousin Ted And you’re crawling into my head With the constant sound Of the screaming cows And now the tearing seams Of the straightjacket As I wait for Godot to arrive As I wait for Godot to arrive Don’t offer me healing Just let me explode While you get put out to pasture and shot down by those Who don’t even have thoughts of their own No they don’t even have thoughts of their own No they don’t even have thoughts of their own And when Godot arrives All the tribute acts must die When Godot arrives All the tribute acts must die
4.
Here I stand Back against the trees Broken heart of the 21st century Stitched upon my worn sleeve I grieve for sincerity The hands of the clock pray at midnight And something just doesn’t sit right In the indifference of the starlight Here I remain, purely out of spite I think we’re dead But don’t know it yet It’s not difficult to tell We’re right here in hell Once again, unceremoniously They all gravitate away from me No longer concerned with my crimes They just wanna spoil my good time The hands of the clock pray at midnight The hands of the clock got me in their sights I think we’re dead But don’t know it yet It’s not difficult to tell We’re right here in hell I think we’re dead But don’t know it yet It’s not difficult to tell We’re right here in hell
5.
6.
Footsteps on the cold floor Casting shadow runes The labored sigh of a swinging door My mind is consumed Your iris glows with fire Flicks an eyelash and recoils I watch the flames grow higher I catch the stinging scent of burning oil A ceiling fan spins the room Somewhere, water drips in time Through a window shines a bitter moon Bars of light, like neon lines Try to suppress the dark The grows inside Escape into a dream It comes along for the ride Don’t wanna understand Don’t wanna be a brand Don’t wanna waste A moment in the sun It seems normal to the rest Must be me I guess Feel the spirit drain I feel guilty when you’re kind to me Our manner is beyond reproach We eat everything we steal As the psychopomps approach We run away in heels
7.
There must be more than this Each day a recurring dream Each dream cries out into the endless Dress the skies in green As the light grows So do the shadows As the light grows We always move away from here Never been a place to be missed The stars above fall with our tears Still the blood flows through our wrists The Fates have a stranglehold on me Each night they choke me to sleep Leave my body behind and drift in between the seams Dress the skies in green As the light grows So do the shadows As the light grows We always move away from here Never been a place to be missed The stars above fall with our tears Still the blood flows through our wrists We always move away from here Never been a place to be missed The stars above fall with our tears Still the blood flows through our wrists

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Final LP from Monty O'Blivion

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released January 20, 2024

All words, music and production by Monty O'Blivion

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Monty O'Blivion Los Angeles, California

Monty O’Blivion is dead

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