Luyện nghe bài hát Flesh Furnace

Roasts his parents as sleep, a ghastly human pyre
Who'd suspect a little boy shouldn't play with fire?
Firmly down to the bed, sprawled across the mattress
in petrol, pleads of mercy, staring at the matches
Eyes of horror open as finally the match is struck
Hungry fumes burst in to flames, your little boy don't a fuck
Blue flames race across the blankets, sheets fuse to backs
torturous pain, as faces melt like wax
The fire-works excite the boy, he dances the bed
Chanting, merrily, his parents glowing red
Across the bed and up the walls, the fire the ceiling
Paint and flesh react the same, and peeling

Blood, blackened and un-burnt fuel
Ooze from the mouth as drool
Carbonized corpse brittle and
grinning brown through black flaking skin

Years by that little boy has turned into a man
Ten score lives gone up in smoke - his jerry can
His favourite prey, the sleeping ones, ignorant to
Awakened by the of the pyromaniac

The haunting of parents dead,
torments his each day
New faces, a mere disguise,
those parents to pay
furiously, their torment he remembers
A whisp of steam, a sizzling sound, as hits the embers