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 into abatoir... Hot air
out the aperture, A putrid gust of flattus and methane, Inhaling the
rotting fumes as I choke, Hit by a wave of nausea I try to restrain... At
I regard the bloated stiffs, dislimbed and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now swollen by putrefaction, A makeshift for the obese...
Their corpulence solely, By the foulness of their smell, Their girth
only expanded in death, The fleshy carcasses bloat and swell...
Postmortem hypertrophy plagues the hefty cadavers, Their bodies now
thoroughly dead, The incessant buzzing of as necrovores slaver, Fills
the tepid chamber whose walls I've red... I hacked through their
layers of fat, Some were gutted, some punctured, some razed, When I
finished I found them flat, If not yet dead, then at least bleeding
and dazed... In this shack I had left them to rot, And then departed the
undignified scene, The makeshift crypt they now fetid and hot, The
innards turned a sickly shade of green