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Visions from the Elbow Room

by Cod O'Donnell

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1.
Jef-ree the Fly was Trapped between the Walls - Was Buzzing through the Night - Was Echoing down the Halls. Jef-ree the Fly was Raised in the Styx - Was Scratching at the WIndows - Was Teaching Circus Fleas Bad Tricks. And You're Aiming for Utopia by Late July, Jef-ree Hold up your Hands, Scream "I'M TOO TIRED". Jef-ree the Fly - a Real Composite Cubist Creep - Whose Eyes could take a Glance at Post-Modern Thought and Laugh at it for Weeks. Jef-ree the Fly - Vomit Up then Break it Down - Realise these Paths are Full of Arachnids wearing Graduation Gowns. And you're Aiming for Clarity by Winter Time, Jef-ree Hold up your Hands, Scream "I'M DOING FINE". Jef-ree the Fly - Beelzebub you are Not - Just a Renegade whose Eggs were Laid Within the Book of Job. Jef-ree - Don't Die, Not in this Wooden Cave - Some Day you may End up like the People's Princess but this Hole is Not Your Grave.
2.
We're having Lunch in the Living Room, Now the World-Eater is Outside, We're having Lunch in the Living Room, Now the World-Eater is Outside. The Essential Word is Non-Euclidean, Dimensions turn to Absent Brides, The Essential Word is Non-Euclidean, Now the World-Eater is Outside. We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) MMMHMM The Blackest Stars Hang in the Room's Damp Corners, Depth Charge is in the Toilet Bowl, The Blackest Stars Hang in the Room's Damp Corners, Depth Charge is in the Toilet Bowl. Wrong Humour Yanked Out with his Back-Right Molar, Do Old Bricks Hold the Stain of Souls? Wrong Humour Yanked Out with his Back-Right Molar, Depth Charge is in the Toilet Bowl. We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) (Cough Cough) MMMHMM Oh I used to Write Witty Rhymes Plumbing the Depths of those Sunken Themes, When it Seemed a Far-off Joke or a Nostradamus Dream, And Through Collapse Some Moving Pictures Cannot Be Restored, I'm Edging Towards Jack Torrance taking Chunks Out a Bathroom Door. We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) We Owe Thanks to the Nasal Polyp (For Standing in the Way of the Fresh Air) MMMHMM AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
3.
Plancks of Wood, Held in Highest Esteem. Plancks of Wood, Build a Nest for the Apes. Plancks of Wood, Form Channels in the Water. Plancks of Wood, Keeping the People on their Knees. Plancks of Wood, Tilts the Heat to a Fire. Plancks of WOod, Scrapes the Pork from Your Teeth. Plancks of Wood, Halting the Zombie at Your Window. Plancks of Wood, Containing Lead Brings Forth Graphemes. Plancks of Wood, Pulped and Juiced Becomes History. Plancks of Wood, Become Your Tomb, Becomes Your Rest. Plancks of Wood, Converts Grey Matter into Ashes. Plancks of Wood, Heralds the Footsteps of the Dutch. PLANCKS OF WOOD.....WOOD YA BELIEVE IT?
4.
The Magma in Its Mouth, The Loose Fillings in Its Teeth, The Heart of Damp Wonder, The Cadmium Upon the Breeze, The Swollen Apples in the Bucket, Old Heathens in the Trees, The Fake Blood and False Faces Folks Abandon as they Please. October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose. There's Bread Out for the Pigeons and Mastic Round the Window, Ace Frehley is in the Mirror Whilst the Guisers Haunt in Limbo, There is Weak Crying from the Alley and a Poorly Daubed Symbol, Whilst a Fella Carries Outward Innards in an Orange Tinted Soup-Bowl. October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose, October has Broke Loose. DREAM SOFTLY OF NEEPS, DREAM SOFTLY OF NEEPS, DREAM SOFTLY OF NEEPS, DREAM SOFTLY OF NEEPS.

about

An E.P. All About the Third Season in the Year. May Its Orange and Brown Leaves be Warm and Comforting, or Damp and Claustraphobic
Half of the Stories in this Collection are Partly True, Mixed in with Various Confusions that Occur on a Daily Basis.

"The Elbow Room" is a Forgotten Place (or More a Feeling Maybe), lost to Time and the Ravages of Civilisation but Which has Sprung Up again in the Recent Pandemic. It is That Feeling which Comes from Staring at the Corners of Your Bedroom and Wondering if There was Anything else on the Other Side. A Being No Longer Constrained to Our 3-Dimensional World Watching on in Silence, Perhaps? Or Possibly Nothing, Just the Infinite Void Held at Arms Length by Bricks, Wood and a Lick of Paint.

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released November 6, 2020

Written, Performed, Recorded and Mixed by Cod O'Donnell.
Record Cover by Cod O'Donnell

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Cod O'Donnell Edinburgh, UK

Dropped from a Wormhole over the Dead Holiday Resort of Dunbar and Now Stumbling Around Edinburgh, Cod O'Donnell's Music Captures the Sound of the Horror at the Back of the Biscuit Cupboard - Strange Backwater Escapades Over Buzzing, Corroded Soundscapes/ Scratchy Oddball Folk Songs.

"O’Donnell has the attributes to become a cult hero nationwide"
-Pictish Prism
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