Luyện nghe bài hát Grotesqueries

All the world's indeed a
And we are merely
Dead on arrival is our course
And if the toe fits, tag it

Sycophants, we're blind
Feeding off each regurgitation
Disgorging waste we find
Breeding our degradation with each

to the slaughter
Feast of fools the fodder
No trompe to behold
a wretched drama to unfold

Gnarled within this coil
Within the voracious feebly toil
of our own disease
We in our own grotesqueries

Dissecting ourselves to find alive
Just a mass of animated pieces
Nothing within to revive
We're mired knee-deep in our own fetid

our gnawing jaws with our own pathological waste
Like grubs wriggling in the rank feast of
We grind our own bones into dust futile step we take
As we inch unseeing day after day

or consumed
We all end up as and grume
Upon the fetid we choke
Leaving us in no position to the sick joke

Twisted through mortal coil
Now our unctuous desserts are brought to a
Somewhere between the and the deceased
We gag on the of our grotesqueries

Too consumed by consumption to see our own
We're all dead and only getting
Digging our own graves into which we gladly
In this cold we're shackled and fettered

As we ingest each others' waste, in a frenzied feeding
Leaving everything and dead in our wake
Devouring each in ravening, unheeding crush
As we gorge ourselves on all the tripe and offal we can

menagerie
Eschatological
We each others' atrocities
In grotesquery

Asphyxiated by this coil
Reaping fruits long since despoiled
Until our depraved lives at surcease
hunger for more grotesqueries