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 gust of flattus and methane, Inhaling the
rotting fumes as I choke, Hit by a wave of I try to restrain... At last
I regard the stiffs, Terribly dislimbed and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now swollen by putrefaction, A makeshift for the obese...
Their exceeded solely, By the foulness of their smell, Their girth
only expanded upon in death, The fleshy carcasses and swell...
Postmortem hypertrophy plagues the hefty cadavers, Their portly now
thoroughly dead, The incessant buzzing of insects as necrovores slaver,
the tepid chamber whose walls I've stained red... I hacked through
layers of blubbering fat, Some were gutted, some punctured, some razed, I
finished I found them decidedly flat, If not yet dead, then at bleeding
and dazed... In this dingy shack I had left to rot, And then departed the
undignified scene, The makeshift they inhabit now fetid and hot, The
curdling innards turned a sickly of green