Luyện nghe bài hát A Song For The Dead

The ashen muse commissions a new verse
A song to while away the long in the hearse
Yet all of us who danse macabre to these dour, dismal
Become cold, grim and as the dirt upon the tomb
In darkened dirges death's knell peals out toll
As another cadaver is consigned six feet to its hole
But ere the last of dirt falls on the wall of the box
We gravely offer a salute to those to rot
So up your severed heads, in a song for the dead
Life's ever runs red, so let no lyric remain unsaid
As our mouths the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
Like rats by the piper we're led, to join in this for the dead

The humor of the gallons never to ring true
In this dead, bleak, sick that we're hung, drawn and quartered though
As each internecine instrument plays its own bloody
The hammering of coffin nails the beating of our hearts
Symphonic surgery orchestrated, a conducts
The epiphany comes too late, just to reduce us to chunks
up from the sod heaves a gross, putrid breath
As the is joined in this song for the dead
So lift up your severed heads, in a song for the
Life's course ever runs red, so let no lyric remain
As from our the melody is bled, in a symphony scripted in red
Like rats by the piper led, to join in this song for the dead

toccatas deranged, raked across barbed strings and hacked
Eviscerated etudes for the de-brained, plucked upon heartstring
On the
Medicinal movements
oratorios obscene
Forensic and de-boned
Mutilating the method and means
The crepitated coda dies in
As the sheet-music is obscured by a sanguine scarlet
Shattered stave in your split-open splattered brain
The meter falters as the bow is fretted once again
Acrid are screeched
The bloated thorax is
Abrading viscera with
Grotesquely the deceased

Cleaving the
notes bleed into a mess
Falling on so deaf
So it ever is in
Carbonized corrupt, ringing out, sewing seeds of dischord and

Suppurated sonatas erupt, Purulent pizzicatos slicing which way
The truncated cadence is sundered, Bloody scraps of music
Unintellibly
Threnodies six feet under, To where all life's fractured melodies
Will finally
The symphonic slaughter's without restraint
As the cadenza splits your eardrums clean in twain
The orchestra pit an abattoir of death and pain
The hatchet falls in sharp staccato until everyone is