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Sprain - Man Proposes, God Disposes

Order Sprain: https://flnsr.co/sprain European store: https://flnsr.co/eu Digital: https://orcd.co/w4v1nwx Subscribe to The Flenser Channel: http://flnsr.co/youtube Artist: Sprain Track: Man Proposes, God Disposes Album: The Lamb As Effigy or Three Hundred And Fifty XOXOXOS For A Spark Union With My Darling Divine Album out September 1st 2023 It’s about control or lack thereof A twist of fate A change A reversal The ox turned butcher The slave turned master The band turned audience Cue the doe in headlights eye Response to roadkill diatribe Finally I am my own wind, ship, sails, and oar I will be your target I will stand here like an idiot with an apple on my head While you hurl response like some blasphemous arrow Thus a guilt most crushing A Sisyphean guilt A heart hidden beneath the floorboards guilt William Tell Tale Heart A post-ejaculation man upstairs watching guilt Wet potential smeared across your stomach guilt And it’s entirely your own guilt Lacking any description worthy To subsume in just simple words Is a disservice to the blank sensation of When the sky has its way with you And you burn up in the atmosphere All creation whispers in your ear “Blessed is the dog defecating on your lawn, grinning” Inhale, exhale etcetera Animals eat animals etcetera Animals fuck animals etcetera Do I have to spell it out for you? The words printed in super nova bold: “I am always riding these rotations around the sun I am always riding this pretty bow tied on top, so tight as to never come undone” The same joke twice but the second time louder An ocean of intellectual people laughing Sailing idiot waters forever While advertisements like nooses hang Covering up Man Proposes, God Disposes In preparation for a test taken in a play I’m always writing in my head And in it your character imagines Men hung up on meathooks in a butcher’s shop And eyed by oxen dressed in fur coats and leather hats Animals eat animals ad infinitum Cast in a starring role as flesh While everyone else you know plays motion Sparred details and generous skips to the good parts Signed by the sun with a wink and a thumbs up Dancing lucid in arachnid schemes With arachnid reputation proceeding So contrary to a familiar soft A grasp for sense where there is none Sense is a spark between us Sense is a cross armed glance and silent nod between us Both shackled and accessed by a constant waltz Of pushing air and wagging tongues The intimate marriage of sensation and response An exchange of jargon from one orifice to the next All my thoughts are “Colorless green ideas sleep furiously.” All my thoughts, every one And through this I admire the farce of control And my total lack of wind, ship, sails, and oar Every grip sustained on tangible artifact Is an amusing thought and nothing more