Luyện nghe bài hát Nativity Obscene - A Nursery Chyme

[Musick & Lyrixxx - Matt

infant is a breach birth debacle
Natal necrolysis, destined for a bottle
section reveals the ghastly tot
An infant, in its womb borne to rot

and stiff ere its first breath is claimed
The bundle of joy, catatonically maimed
Cold, dead and as it's exhumed from the womb
The uterus its cradle, and its moist tomb...

Only scalpels left for
Swaddling clothes but not from chafing
Baptism by embalming
As the trocar facilities the blood's dilution...

Festered fetus drawn from the cavity in it was conceived
Birth and death now unified, as the grotesque infant is
Livid osteopedion, breathless lungs still, and dry
Birth is just a forensic folly when in being born one

Birth and death in one breath, extract the corpse from her guts
The morbid cavity is lavaged, torn and cut
Another tiny that ended before it could begin
Another of human offal, to end up in the rubbish bin...

gurgles nor cries escape its lifeless blue lips
Placenta disgorges amniotic as the umbilical cord rips
Morbid nursery fall on deaf little ears
As the dry-eyed infant parents to bitter tears...

Obstetric
With a for a crib
for an autopsy
bag for a bib...

Hush baby, don't say a word
going to have to get a casket reserved
But if your body is too
The coffin door will to stay closed

A in her arms
Not from harm
the water breaks, the cradle will rot
A nursery chyme with no happy ending, in the wastebasket, dead and
forgot...

[Lead -

corpse to carve for pathologists and their ilk
Nursed on embalming fluid, no use crying over silt milk
Silent rattles stilled
The doctor's gloved deliver the babe into a grave that now is filled

Morbid anatomy technicians are the child's only
Callously dissecting, the inanimate
A bloodied dissecting table serves as the young one's and trundle
As inquisitive butchery, splays this joyless bundle...

Dead ever being alive to die
Eyes forever ere the first tear could dry
Mouth sealed by rigor mortis the first newborn cry
infant on the table, dead-cut and dry...

Newborn
Whose is a slab
Lifeless
Diminutive to be tagged...

Now I lay you to sleep
Your flesh not long to keep
If you rot before you wake
Then leave your corpse for the worms to

In the cold corridors in the sterile, dead
are heard from the maternity ward
But from the mouth of babes, no escapes
In nativity obscene behind mortuary drapes...