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, my way into this abatoir... Hot air
rushes out the aperture, A putrid gust of flattus and methane, the
fumes as I choke, Hit by a wave of nausea I try to restrain... At last
I regard the bloated stiffs, Terribly and deceased, My plumpened
prizes now swollen by putrefaction, A makeshift for the obese...
Their corpulence exceeded solely, By the of their smell, Their girth
only expanded in death, The fleshy carcasses bloat and swell...
hypertrophy plagues the hefty cadavers, Their portly bodies now
thoroughly dead, The buzzing of insects as necrovores slaver, Fills
the tepid chamber whose walls 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 dingy shack I had left them to rot, And departed the
undignified scene, The makeshift they inhabit now fetid and hot, The
curdling turned a sickly shade of green