1. |
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Paralyzed by apathy
Preaching from a pulpit now condemned
Otherworldly warbling
Emperor swine masquerading as men
A respite in spite of the grave
And a false prophet’s charade
No sense in prayer for the betrayer
As God must have His way
Dead to rights on the vine
The mother has been stuck and bled dry
For some sentient froth
To piss away the family stock
Skin’s gone stale
A bulging sack of bones
Calloused lungs
The hate is palpable
Regurgitate
The lies of the provider
A cavalcade
Of loveless surfeit
Hammering indifference into altars of blood
Forging division within facets of love
After dehiscence, a soporific display
Of pious permissiveness and gluttonous disdain
Treacherous perjurer and a wretched pelf
An exuberant adulterer with no sense of self
Regurgitate the lies of the provider
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2. |
Fucking Rot
01:49
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Reliant on oblivion
Delusions ensconced
Feigning recognition
Simply salting the crops
Writhing through your bones
The soul cannot lie
Prosaic echos atone
Dying on borrowed time
Necessitous whispers
Ne’er ripen to shout
Facticity’s abandoned
Brute’s benefit of doubt
I have such doubts
I have such doubts
Proscribing convalescence
Muddying the plot
Shrouded in opulence
To conceal the stench of the rot
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3. |
Fermented Wound
04:22
|
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Incessant pulsing in my brain
There’s always something I can’t let go of
Foul furnace / cracked skull
Not cognizant of the blood-soaked pillow
I can no longer hold space for those defined by hate
Vapid indulgences / distorted reflections
Precious souls torn asunder
Hidden within the core of thought
Unwieldy perception
Conjuring death in an attempt to feel
I haven’t lost my mettle, though I’ve found the end of the rope
Your acerbic tongue won’t be the reason I choke
You won’t be the reason I choke
Mutilated fingertips
From gnawing to the bone
Toothsome flesh consumed in panic
Our very lives are governed by the dead
Disregarding circumstances
A child of Christ formed in spit
Begging for a dim-lit rapture
Burning projections onto the skin
For every fleeting achievement
File the teeth deeper into the curb
Preoccupied by a bliss long after
A gentle kick could end the world
March / empty pig
Crawl / hollow being
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4. |
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Channeled through amorphous spite
A life wandering meaning
Lost in the symmetry
Sense patterns unyielding
The streets succumb to foaming death
Forced to haunt through the gore
Concrete thoughts for concrete skulls
Evaporate in the pour
A benign cyst under skin
A wound not worth the care
Self-conscious and insipid
An absentminded prayer
The indifferent gods above
Disgusted with our bids for love
Splenetic oversight
To drown out the choral cries
I just might
I just might
Take the shape of memory
And reform it to my liking
Witnessing all the suffering
The needle caught the fur
If peace is what you seek
Wipe the blood off of your teeth
If peace is what you seek
Unearth horrors bequeathed
Give up what is owed
For your life is the cost of sin atoned
Push the bone through the skin
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Clot Atlanta, Georgia
DEHISCENCE & HOSTILITY OUT 10/18/2024
Clot recommends:
CHRISTFUCKER
by portrayal of guilt
THIS IS SCARY MUSIC
go to album
BEHIND THE MASK, ANOTHER MASK
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PROPERLY INSANE
go to albumIf you like Clot, you may also like:
supported by 10 fans who also own “Dehiscence”
This is HEAVY! A VERY HEAVY PARTY!! Hell yeah.
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My Life As A Woman (10th Anniversary Remaster)
by Couch Slut
Couch Slut’s pulverizing debut gets a reissue, its hammering guitars and wrenching vocals as searing as ever.
go to album
