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Moated Mountain

by Leo M. O'Connor

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1.
Roman Tiles 03:32
The pilot’s a dream Rest of the season was a ratings machine But then the whole thing fell apart at the seams As the cameras caught fire Moving across Between the stations I forgot where I was Felt at the same time familiar and lost As the daylight expired Breaking it down Sinister pages of a sinister sound And as I walked a hundred stairs to the town I heard the ladies in choirs They sang “the square was on fire” As the rain fell on the Roman Tiles Yeah the square was on fire As it rained in Holy Rome Yeah you know, you know what’s going on Moving along Hearing pieces of my favorite song With every stairway we’re treading upon The elevation gets higher Tearing apart Whatever emptiness was left from the start I watched the ocean from a tower of rocks And the ladies in choirs… The rain, in sheets, it fell for now it’s good But you and I, wouldn’t change it if I could We’re all alone, in another part of the world But the rain, in sheets, it fell for now We’re altogether all alone…
2.
Great Lakes 02:47
I was dreaming of a Great Lake The kind you might see on a steely morning long long before, any of us knew what it was like to have someone call you a fiancee in the third person, let alone a husband or a father Deeper than any Ocean/ deeper than any sea the opposite of a mountain, a valley within a valley You see a Great Lake is like an ocean Who has lost her waves and salt And fell behind the pack in the long walk all rivers take to the coast And that part, that part of me who dreams about the strangest things Wonders whether the center might be the deepest spot on Earth Or at the very least Illinois
3.
Well I know just about every street corner This city has to offer me tonight Every intersection looming In the distance I’m assuming    Has the weight of some strange memory, alright      Like the Michigan, Ohio, Fletcher Place  exit off the interstate Delivered flowers to a public school right there When I had a short-lived summer job  Working for a man called Tom  He hired me to drive plants around the town I shared a van and drove it steady  With an ex con and his machete Which he used for pruning trees and his lunch which was typically a cantaloupe Well I know just about every reservoir every river, every lake, every pool every waterfall, the sunlight swooning Just standing there, so unassuming some boyfriend waiting for his girlfriend, alright He’s pulling grass out of the earth  contemplating his self worth While he reads the wikipedia entry on Fairport Convention
4.
Another weird year in the books Never-ending sideways looks Glares, askance, from the scenic salon  As little sisters everywhere slalomed along  To the sound of the drums Wet cement, it was never meant Letting myself back in on the gridiron of original sin where everything, man, is so right and pure and white-knuckle love is de rigueur have you ever been so sure? Wet cement, it was never meant Drip coffee with half and half the subtle grace of the well-trained staff There’s nothing to see, kid There’s nothing to be, kid You never meant anything to me, kid Dripping stucco on a luxury car An iPhone app that mapped out the stars I went, for a stint, to the moated mountain And ended up doing the elementary backstroke in a pool of wet cement
5.
I was just another man, who was hangin’ by a thread Waiting around till someone clipped the string that was holding me together, in all kinds of weather you and me we whispered “never before have we seen a view so tranquil and charming” I was on a winning streak, care-free for 2,000 weeks but all the sudden those rain clouds started gathering in front of me The window of an Airbus That Charlotte Sheraton These words, they fall like rocks from a cliff In a meter all their own, like muscle tone I bronzed in making small talk With the people at the top Never picked up on that misdirection ‘til the misdirection stopped But I’m feeling quite peculiar, mind not quite my own Gonna sit down and write another sophomore poem
6.
Reeds 03:58
Well, it was just an instance Of disregard for distance Of sediment insistence But I wish we could carry the lot The merits of a blind test My shoes are never shineless But the railways roll behind us And split those white plains behind us in two As something slips from view But it breathes, it breathes The handsome man’s a catch indeed The reeds recede And the aerial cam, it captured you With nothing but a lot to say You’re perfect in every way It changes from day to day, but we’re taking it all away when we say… Cause “blushing” is not a word for men And MENSA’s not an acronym But Latin for the surface Where the memories desert us And sussing out the word for when the afternoons they never end The metaphors implore us, and the seeds they might restore us Planted a seed, grew to a reed, and it might return us all
7.
I twist down upon the speckled breeze, intact while the interim repairman Steadies his boundless craft And looks off into the distance But it’s often, I stop, to gaze outward Or more specifically, not inward But I’ve got nothing but love for you Slanted mist in the air and small talk about the weather A bummer leaving, it’s just as well You spent it nearly lifeless I woke at dawn and took off on a run While the fog was hanging low On the hilltop church bells rang And the sky was grey above Wishes for OK swam through my head Like whirlpools of seasons misspent Whirlpools of seasons misspent
8.
Sparrow 02:55
Awoken by the sound of some sparrow peeling plaster off the window near my bed while green cotoneaster leaves are growing ‘round my head Taken round and round by the willowy conjecture of the lease on crooked frowns and brittle architecture held by kings in borrowed crowns. Felt it all, and thought I had control
9.
It was the day after Easter when, whoa oh The Checkered Past first decided to go their own ways Mickey fell in with a girl from Nebraska Timmy’s gonna pledge Delta at UCLA Tommy’s stacking up his drums in the garage Hoping someday to teach Tommy Jr to play But I just found the time To write the song that will take us all the way to the top But I’ll still be sitting right here and singing along, til it’s all just coming on Sat down to write you this letter, whoa oh You know I’ve never been long for this world and its ways But I’ve still got this Stratocaster whoah oh Gonna sit down and write us some new songs to play
10.
Twilight, sleeping on the garden floor Walking in the shade of the blades that tower over me The highlight Let’s take this verse around the block once more Walking in the shade of the blades that tower over me Do you feel the weight of this song? It sits all over me But if the tenderness doesn’t linger We’ll only have ourselves to blame And all of these heavenly singers How can I keep track of their names? And all that Danish furniture, so little remains of the day

about

Recorded mostly in and around NYC, but also Lisbon, Philadelphia, and Durham, NC

Special Thanks to Lauren Hartstone who made this all happen, and to my family and friends!

And lastly, thanks to Matt Barrick, who helped turn my wooly mess of home recordings into a proper album, and Quentin Stoltzfus, for the final mastering touch.

credits

released December 3, 2021

All Songs Written and Arranged by Leo O’Connor with arrangement help from Patrick Brennan on League Champs

Recorded 2020-2021 in New York
Mixed by Matt Barrick at Silent Partner (www.mattbarrick.xyz/silent-partner)
Mastered by Quentin Stoltzfus

Musicians:
Leo O'Connor: Guitar, bass, synth, piano, drum machine, vocals
Matt Barrick: Drums, percussion, and drum machines on tracks 2-8
Tommy O'Connor: Drums on tracks 1 & 10
Barbara Quintiliano: Vocals on tracks 1 & 2
Patrick Brennan: Bass on tracks 3 & 10, vocals on track 10

Cover Design by Lauren Hartstone, with original artwork by Johnny Lee (www.johnnylee.life)

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tags

about

Leo M. O'Connor New York, New York

Breezy pop + old guitars + dreamy synths + drum machines + a voice like sand and glue, with a little help from my friends

IG:
@moated_mountain
www.instagram.com/moated_mountain/

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