Luyện nghe bài hát Inpropagation

Insipid bellow
the atrabilious
chimney.
In the
crevet I calmly
and
for hot dry
powdered slag
steaming in the
grate.

ebullition,
bones tar, dehydrates
for my horticulture
so I may cultivate..

Your mortal mechanism
in rich.
In the turf you lie
for the taking.

Charred
as as lime,
no do I need.
flesh
used as
to and
seed.
Spreading this potash
as ash matured.
my rich harvest.
Bring out dead...
for use as manure!

Irrigating are shed.
But the must be fed.
And no rest for the dead.

Tipping and up
the spilt of urns.
Every that glows
as in the fire.
all hope
of dispatch.
These charred desired.

rites performed.
A sooting up the flu.
my execrable inferno.
Even in the
there's to do.

The nitrogen content
the is weak.
At the graveside cry.
never to wake again.

Burnt renews
the
to my seed.
Cremated
are my
to use as plant feed.
Ploughing this
manure.
Seedling my harvest.
out your dead
for the to devour.

Dry the are bled.
because the
be fed.
Still no for the dead.

I
in the grate.

to ashes.
to dust.
Diluted in
and on crops.
Charcoal, fats,
flesh and
fertilising
with furtile rot.

Incumbent.
calories are spent.

to ashes.
to dust.
Renewing the
with corrupt.
scrapings,
a must.
To the hot
the are trussed.

Harvesting the
to the soil.
Rejuvenating the
with my spoils...

Reaping the
to the land.
Replenishing exhausted
with my uncanny of hand.
the unnatural balance.
my seed.
Defalcating the
I and glean.

So I my contrite lament.
for the dead.
Their rest I disturb.
Where should stand row row
of cold grey remembrance
my cash now grow.