Luyện nghe bài hát In My Human Slaughterhouse...

By night I return to the shed, Anxious to catch a glimpse of the dead,
Nervously, I unbolt the door, Making my way this abatoir... Hot air
rushes out the aperture, A putrid gust of flattus and methane, the
rotting fumes as I choke, Hit by a wave of nausea I try to restrain... At
I the bloated stiffs, Terribly dislimbed and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now by putrefaction, A makeshift mortuary for the obese...
Their corpulence exceeded solely, By the foulness of smell, Their girth
only expanded upon in death, The carcasses bloat and swell...
Postmortem hypertrophy plagues the cadavers, Their portly bodies now
thoroughly dead, The incessant of insects as necrovores slaver, Fills
the tepid chamber walls I've stained red... I hacked through their
layers of fat, Some were gutted, some punctured, some razed, When I
I found them decidedly flat, If not yet dead, then at least bleeding
and dazed... In this shack I had left them to rot, And then departed the
scene, The makeshift crypt they inhabit now fetid and hot, The
curdling innards turned a sickly shade of