(exit dreaming)

Recorded in my home studio 2025

Lyrics by Neill Cardinal Furio
Music by Allan Østerdahl

Produced by Neill Cardinal furio & Allan Østerdahl

Allan Østerdahl
Lead vocal, guitars, pedals
Conn organ, backing vocals

Eddi Jarl
Drums, backing vocals
Salesman shouts

Søren Koch
Guitars, lap steel, backing vocals

Christoffer Holm Clausen
Bass, backing vocals

Recorded and mixed by Allan Østerdahl
Mastered by Brian Mørk Hansen

Cover art by Tim Bjørn (madebytim.com)

A Listener’s Guide To (Exit dreaming)

HOME SWEET HELL
Hmm … what have we here? The scene of a crime? A break-up? A murder? Either or any old
way, the hell is tell-tale, and the flames are everywhere. And what the heck is that missing last
word? A confession? Or just a bad edit?

CANNED GOODS
You think things are bad now? Just you wait. The water wars aren’t even here yet, but the body
count is rising. And we’ve already run out of room to bury the corpses. Thank goodness for the
cure of rampant entrepreneurship. And the fact that some people will buy almost anything.

INFINITY IN REVERSE
Ever since The Eligibles first reversed the tape on their 1959 novelty number “Car Trouble”,
we’ve been offered a second direction in which to travel the space-time continuum. Which, given
the R on every ride’s gear lever, makes perfect sense. Especially this one’s, which has gone as
far as it can in Drive.

FIRST-PERSON SHOOTER
By show of hands, how many of you have an X-Box or a Playstation or a Switch? Or a Joystick or
a Zapper or a Toylet? Or have a son who does, ghost-faced and raccoon-eyed in front of a
flickering screen? Okay, then … you know what’s going on here. Or do you? ‘Cause maybe that
kid is all grown up, and has found a well-paying job with the powers-that-be. We can only hope not.

STILL LIFE
A still life is a work of art that depicts mostly inanimate subject matter, typically commonplace
objects, which are either natural (food, flowers, dead animals, plants, rocks, and shells) or are
human-made (drinking glasses, books, vases, jewelry, coins, and pipes). But that’s just the
Wikipedia-what. What about the who-where-when-how-why?

MY SWEET DREAM
Hmm … what have we here? The scene of a crock? A crack-up? A mirage? Either or any old
way, the dream is tell-tale, and the flowers are everywhere. And what on earth is that rhyming
last word? An illusion? Or just a glad edit?

Neill Cardinal Furio — February 1st 2026

Home sweet hell

It used to be easy being here
Now easy is hard
And hardly a day won’t find me hoist
By my own petard

So recently dreamy sleeping here
Now dreamy is rare
And rarely a night won’t find me lost
In sheets of your hair

Home sweet hell
Home sweet hell

It only was loamy sowing here
Now loamy is bare
And barely a crop won’t find me host
To crows on my share

So long ago solely floating here
Now solely is scarce
And scarcely a flight won’t find me burst
In tears on your stairs

Home sweet hell
Home sweet hell

These steps I’m climbing
Heaven help us cause you hold the lever
That sends me sliding
Helward helpless with every endeavor

It used to easy lovely living here
Now lovely is …

canned goods

I’ve got eyeballs of brown
I’ve got eyeballs of blue
I’ve got eyeballs of hazel
And bloodshot eyes too

I’ve got fingers and hands
I’ve got toes and three feet
I’ve got ankles and elbows
A bonafide treat

Take a look at my cans
I’ve got luscious and lean
It’s the widest assortment
That you’ve ever seen!

I’ve got forearms and thighs
And the meatiest flesh
I’ve got biceps and triceps
The freshest of fresh

I’ve got asses and tits
Nicely marbled with fat
I’ve got pussies and cocks
If you’re still into that

Take a look at my cans
I’ve got boy and girlkind
It’s the wildest selection
That you’ll ever find!

Take a look at my cans
I’ve got young and full-grown
It’s the widest assortment
That you’ve ever known!

Take a look at my cans
I’ve got salty and sweet
It’s the wildest selection
That you’ll ever eat!

infinity in reverse

Our numbers diminish, our chances decrease
For finding a purpose that leads to our peace
We mesh and we mirror, like gears of old chrome
We grieve hand in hand, never making a home

I thought we’d get better, we only got worse
Now I’m living a nightmare: Infinity in reverse

Our fears are augmented, our sorrows increase
In sums exponential with no real release
We spin and we spiral, like wheels in the night
We walk armed and armless away from the light

I thought we’d float off, but we’re driving a hearse
And I’m living a nightmare: Infinity in reverse

Dear Einstein
You were right about everything
But us

I thought that our love was the cure for my curse
But I’m living a nightmare: Infinity in reverse

first-person shooter

If I stick to my guns, I’ll be fine
Yeah, remember to stiffen the spine
Take a breath and then steady my aim
Work an’ play by the rules of the game

I CAN be healed, I AM re-armed
My BLOOD’S congealed, I CAN’T be harmed
My METAL skin is HOW and why
I ALWAYS win! I NEVER die!
I NEVER EVER die!

If I go with my gut, I’ll survive
Yeah, I’ll come through the carnage alive
Stay alert and then go for the kill
Never weaken the want of my will

I CAN be healed, I AM re-armed
My BLOOD’S congealed, I CAN’T be harmed
My METAL skin is HOW and why
I ALWAYS win! I NEVER die!
I NEVER DIE
I NEVER DIE
I NEVER FUCKING die!

still life

Blue vase of flowers
Alive as the day it was glazed
Breeze-billowed curtains
As white as two bottles of milk

Still life
Still still life
Still still
And still?

Rose-fingered sundress
Awry on the ironing board
Rain-rusted playground
As brown as a bowl of old plums

Still life
Still still life
Still still
And still?

my sweet dream

Remember the nightmare of being half-born
Remember the hell
Remember the rust-iron trap of old scorn
The heart’s prison cell

Remember the spot-lit inferno of breath
The mirror-black scheme
What gladdens the sad dance of life and of death
Is all that remains … of my sweet dream

I wandered a dollhouse of potions and pearls
I flowered the grave
I blue-balled the boys and I glass-eyed the girls
Their master, their slave

I spiraled in light years and fluttered the floor
Afloat on a stream
What butterflies daily outside the front door
Is all that remains … of my sweet dream

These words I’m rhyming in relation
To further the drama
May offer quiet consolation
To your deepest trauma

Remember the passions of odysseys passed
Are more than pretend
Remember the wakening dream at long last
Begins at the end