Luyện nghe bài hát Hobo Stew

A certain human being, lowest form of
A sick individual, fetal bum

I have a hunger, it goes to an extent,
Feeding out of clinic bins wasn't meant
Most hobos wait in line for goodwill soup,
Nasty me scrapes dumpsters for aborted goop,

Earliest of development,
Since their future was dim,
Tasting the unborn a whim,
Unborn, aborted, because they were
Abortions to my feasting, horrid of sick chagrin,

Unborn, and incomplete,
Delicious miscarriage
A fetus treat,
of the embryo,
A dinner bizarre for hobo

Fetus eater, no is sweeter,
shows inside the womb, not upon my plate
Served with and greens, oh the generations I've ate
From the bloodily spewed,
child now hobo food,
Fetus ripped womb,
to be subjected to a culinary doom

My eating horribly crude,
Their rubbery I have chewed,
down fetal slop,
Embryonic jelly on my and chin

Fetus no meat is sweeter

Since their future was dim,
Tasting the upon a whim,
wastes fill me to the brim,
Picking my teeth with a limb.