released October 31, 2020

Produced by Trevor Reilly
Mastered by Joe Reilly
Cover art by Matt Mazzone
lyrics:
SETTING THE SCENE:
In a world of robot wreckage lies an Island Of The Damned, somewhere near the Azores, between the living, dead, dream, and nightmare. The 1970's never died. Life is a rerun you are forced to watch. Everything is a commercial. Richard Nixon rules the Poppy Fields. The only hope is Evel Knevel's motorcycle skills, Bruce Lee's educated feet, and James Brown's magic shoes.
NIXON ON ROLLER SKATES:
He can fly so high make you cry to the sky
my my my he's a hell of a guy
mess with him and you will die
I don't know why you even try
Nixon on roller skates.
TRIPPING INTO THE PAST
Disabused notions never complain
long lost lies never explain
shout out to my former self
and my future mental health
drugs were involved and untoward behaviour
tripping backwards into the past
I'm losing my mind
reality doesn't prove anything.
ISLAND OF THE DAMNED:
Island of the Damned
this aint no Holy Land
slouching towards Bethlehem.
The clouds chased the sun away
now you're gonna die every day
there is no light to see
we will destroy Bruce Lee.
Island of the Damned
sorry about the confusion
it is all illusion.
We are not really dead
it's all in your head
Evel Kneviel and James Brown
will soon be in the ground.
IN THE POPPY FIELDS:
In the poppy fields where the heroin grows
and the dreams they die and the nightmare shows
in the poppy fields where the heroin grows
til they crack that whip and the nightmare shows.
In the poppy fields where the heroin grows
no one really dies so you close your eyes
in the poppy fields where the heroin grows
and you catch your breath between life and death.
We exist on some level- some existential plane
there is no life- there is only pain
with a frozen head- attached to a machine
do we really live- do we merely dream.
In the poppy fields where the heroin grows
pain is real and hell overflows
in the poppy fields where the heroin grows
pain won't stop until I drop.
In the poppy fields when your eyes bleed red
and you slave until Nixon wants you dead
misery has it's place- takes a human face
and it morphs until- you cease the chase.
In the poppy fields.
EVEL KNIEVEL:
Evel Knievel don't take no slack
paid the price in blood and sweat
I got no tears and no regret
ride the wind and sew your sin
suck your bones inside your skin
lost my mind or so they say
who are they, anyway!
ULTIMATE MIND DISSOLUTION:
I've been dead so long on the inside
this is the sound of a nervous breakdown.
The smoke recedes into the distance
to the path of least resistance
at least the bodies of the dead
will no longer have to be fed
my soul is in a loop and I can't regroup
all the guests will scream- the damned don't dream
I've been dead so long on the inside
prayers of the dead- go unanswered in your head
lamentations fill your damnations
we are all in limbo between the high and low
yelling at the dead- they don't wake up
how many times do I have to die
just to be born again
how many times do I have to die
just to be born again
I've been dead so long on the inside
ultimate mind dissolution.