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The Devil's Workshop

by Modus Opera & Eye

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    With original art by Ricardo Zegri and Layout by KS Haddock

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1.
I hear their voices, as I go down those who lived without disgrace those who lived without praise Now they cry on the doorstep shake and howl Down in the mud with the Coward Angels arm in arm with those who are not rebels nor faithful to god. Saint Peter in Heaven, has cast them down but the hounds of hell don’t want them around Here they cry on the doorstep forever bound.
2.
Shake them bones In the morning Burn Down Rome Fiddle in the Evening Holler and moan For some peace and quiet
3.
Box of Jesus 03:41
Pull out a box of Jesus Crack open your savior in a can Pour out his grace, one ounce at a time Liver’s washed in the blood of the lamb Crack open them saltine crackers throw a loaf of Velveeta on the board It’s Costco-sized, so eat your fill Every bite is a piece of the lord Chorus Trade in that warm tap water Toss out that moonshine in the pail Fill up a pint from that cardboard tap Turn you solo cup into the Holy Grail Chorus At supper his blood turns to Cabernet As he lays out his body on the dish Judas likes to moonlight as a Sommelier Thinks a Pinot would go better with this fish Chorus
4.
Idle Mouth 01:08
Instrumental
5.
Bones danse the macabre A xylophone of femurs, different lengths measured by those who once walked their shoes old. Maggots and worms dance a segmented rumba through the marrow, tuning the bones hollow. A chromatic brunch for those who feast underground, with bottomless formaldehyde mimosas. Finger bones that once supported the arched neck of a lover, hang now like chimes. Giving voice to cold wind when they touch. A long tone from a slender flute, carved from the clavicle where the collar of that final shirt hung. Spared the purgatory of a thrift store rack, laying instead over an airless lung. Threads snap back and curl like burnt hair returning at last to an elemental state of wool. The drum, a heartbeat played with sticks of calcium. Skin, thick with water, still wet with kisses, tattooed with the scars of the sun. Pulled taut by hair that grows on after the final sigh. In that rattle, a melody hides. A song of peace or maybe, a shout at god. For both songs, the bones dance. while we clap along below.
6.
Grace on loan Blood is pouring Pick up the phone Something to believe in Hear the dial tone Rotten apple bites
7.
The Porter turns to dust on the baggage carousel Rusted cup is empty, no more wishes in the well The coins from my eyelids to pay your fare Steam from the tracks to slick down your hair Climb on board, this train leaves on time Punch your ticket for the end of the line Look up and down, but can't find a seat Just rattling bones clapping with the beat Chorus: We're going to hell on a skeleton train Coal smoke running through my veins Slowly going insane on this skeleton train Conductor's eyes are empty, with a shit-eating grin His teeth clack together singing “come on in” Run past the Boilerman shoveling the coal You can see through his rib-cage, you can see through his soul Chorus Steering the engine, is a man in black With a red pointed tail and horns to match You gotta cut a deal, there’s nothing left to do Take off your skin and dance with the skeleton crew Chrous x2
8.
Idle Eyes 01:28
Instrumental
9.
Skin like a rattlesnake Red as the dawn Your spirit needs a resting place Like a flea needs a dog You don’t know where you’re going to Until you know which side you’re on The gates are closed in paradise Better hitchhike back on home home Chorus: Trade reason for rhyme Pay up later on the other side I keep on pulling the feathers from these wings while Lucifer sings. Tell the queen, the pawn’s to blame For the folly of the king Cut a piece of the cake we made on the edge of a Guillotine take your mask off and set it down listen to the rain hold me close until the weeds are drown as we whisper out the oh the names Chorus
10.
Lead me home Devil breathes a warning Patches sewn Bones need a cleaning your eyes stay closed How can you see the light
11.
I don’t know where you are I think I know just where I’ve been Had to live a life without you Guess I paid the price for your sins When I get too tired to walk Wish I could climb up on your back But when bones have turned to ashes I forget the sound of our laugh Stumble in the dark with no one to lead the way All I got left of you is your picture in a frame and your name to bring me home You called out the end the end of the song before I had a chance to sing Left me spinning on the carousel Reaching for the brass ring You know I caught me an angel who gave birth to a fairy queen wish you could look into her eyes see all the parts of you and me Reach up to find your hand and the right words to say And I see you in the mirror as my hair turns a lighter gray whisper your name to bring me home
12.
When the sun sets too soon we find the reason for the moon The fire down below helps us to grow the seeds we have sewn

about

You hold in your hands (or in your cloud) the second release by Modus Opera & Eye! Much like the last record (Church of the Lost), this is a concept album, designed to be listened to in its entirety, preferably with the lights out, a cold drink in your hand, and a fire in your belly.

The songs on this record can be listened to as stand-alone pieces of course, and have been split into separate tracks for that reason. However the way the piece is intended to be heard is as a single 25+ minute piece of music broken up into movements. Similar in concept to Church of the Lost, The Devil’s Workshop was written one piece at a time, with recurring themes musically and thematically meant to fit together and tell one story.

It’s a story about sin and the snake-pit of good intentions, a story about love and death and the search for the meaning of, not just life, but of loss, and how it shapes our days. It’s a story about the misunderstood motivations of rebellion and the cowardice of refusing to take a side. This is a story about how idle hands are the Devil’s workshop, and the anatomy: the hands, the mouth, the eyes, the cloven hooves of a beast: the beast that lives inside us all, beating the drum of defiance, offering a feast of apples in a garden built on sacrifice.

Movements: In these songs you will find thinly veiled commentary on politics, fear, death, sickness and isolation, but also a bit of hope, remembrance, laughter, and fellowship sprinkled in. Alongside these bigger themes from a world upside down, are some deeply personal moments, confessions of a sort that I hope are universal to those who have lost people close to them. These songs are dedicated to those of us who find ourselves walking down a road with no map and no light, stumbling in the dark, with no one to lead the way. It is there, in the darkness, when all seems lost and we kick at the gravel on the road in the night, that we find the reason for the moon.

Thank you for listening.

-Modus Opera

credits

released December 18, 2020

Modus Opera & Eye
The Devil’s Workshop

Words & Music by Ricardo Zegri, except “Skeleton Train” by Clara Mae Wohlwend-Zegri & Ricardo Zegri

Modus Opera: Vocals, Banjo, Organ, Piano, Bass, Electric Guitar, Stylophone, Ukulele, Megaphone, Field Drum, Drum-set, Tambourine, Glockenspiel, Skull Shaker, Train Whistle

THE EYE:
Sissy Vitreous: Vocals on Idle Hands, Box of Jesus, Skeleton Train & Plucked Wings
Pupil: Vocals on Box of Jesus & Skeleton Train
Max Macula: Jawharp, Slide Guitar & Vocals on Box of Jesus
Smize Queen: Musical Saw on Bone Dance City

Featuring “The Box of Jesus Choir”: Hotcha Cornea, Max Macula, Sissy Vitreous, Pupil, Myron Opia, Wink Lashington, Optic Ichor, Rods & Cones, Ojo Ono, Eyeball Boobo, Cornealia Bulge, Ajna, Brother Strabismus

Field Recordings & Sound FX recorded by Mordus Opera & sourced from Freesound.

Recorded in the Beer Garden, Vallejo CA

Mixed & Mastered by Tim Gennert in Forestville CA

Original album art by Ricardo Zegri

Layout & Design by Keith Haddock

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Modus Opera & Eye Vallejo, California

The soundtrack for the foolish Borracho looking for salvation. Finding it in a cup, or on the road, or maybe behind the sofa.

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